


Remember

by DriftstarLeaderOfTreeClan



Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Minor Original Character(s), Origin Story, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-10-07 07:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 58,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10355466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DriftstarLeaderOfTreeClan/pseuds/DriftstarLeaderOfTreeClan
Summary: "You can't help being curious, Blumiere. Things like that happen when you're forced to see only one side of the world your entire life. Especially when you know there are two." Blumiere only wanted to see what was on the other side. He never imagined he'd meet two excitable children and a beautiful human woman who would change his life.





	1. Far From Home Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Fanfiction.net on May 31, 2015.

_**Remember** _

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter One

_Concealed by the thick leaves of a beautiful forest, a small town thrived. Houses lined the thin streets, crowded closely together. Human men and women tarried about, moving to and from a large square in the middle of the town. Every street branched out from this median, which served as an outdoor marketplace surrounded by bustling vendors hoping to sell their goods._

_The busy town was always covered in shadows. The tall trees of the forest swayed to and fro, casting dappled patterns of light on the blue-gray cobblestone pathways. But the trees weren't the only things blocking out the sun._

_A tall hill was located on the South end of the town, and on it sat a majestic black castle. It towered over the people, keeping them in darkness for most of the day, and instilling a sense of foreboding that none could shake. Inside the castle lived a different race, one of a human-esque appearance, but not of human nature. They locked themselves away, living separate and apart from the humans._

_It was not always this way. Long ago, the small town was twice its size, spanning up to the hilltop. But one day disaster struck, and the once-peaceful town was thrown into a tumult._

_Many humans died that day, struck down by the magic of the Tribe of Darkness. The Tribe destroyed half of the town, and built their castle on the hill, on top of the rubble. But the magic they held quickly dulled, for a reason unknown. So the Tribe shut themselves away in the castle, staying hidden from the humans._

_Because of their history, the townspeople and tribesmen despised each other. None dared to cross the line into the other's territory, and so they grew to become unaware of the vast differences between each other, between the humans, and the Tribe of Darkness._

* * *

"Hey! Get out of here, filthy blue-face! Back to your side of the line!"

Blumiere barely dodged a swinging broom that was aimed for his face, ducking his head and muttering apologies. He flinched and held his hands to his face as the woman holding the broom brought it behind her head, winding up for another hit. "Please, ma'am, I mean you no harm! I only—"

He was cut off as the wooden broom veered for his upper body once more. Stepping backward, he narrowly escaped the blow, but cried out in pain as a sharp object struck his back. Whirling around, he noticed a man standing a few yards away. A pile of rocks was cradled in one arm, and the second was poised at an angle that indicated he was preparing to throw a second stone.

"How dare you show your hideous face _here_?" the man shouted, hurling the rock at the end of his sentence for emphasis. "Have you _forgotten_ what the Tribe of _Darkness_ did to our _town?_ If it weren't for _you_ , we'd still be living _peacefully_!"

In order to evade the incoming shower of stones, Blumiere was forced to backpedal further down the street.

"Where do you think you're going? Get back behind the gates; you're not welcome here!"

As he retreated the woman with the broom approached him again, scowling. Distracted, Blumiere failed to notice the rock that was flying towards him. A small yelp escaped his mouth as it struck his shoulder, and in a sudden wave of panic he spun on his heel, racing down the cobble road in attempt to escape his attackers.

Enraged and frightened exclamations from the two humans followed him, encouraging him to run faster. He could see a large outdoor marketplace at the end of the street, crowded with the pale-faced beings. They were going about their everyday lives, naive and unaware of Blumiere's presence.

Regret fuelled each step as he realized he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and a quick glance behind him confirmed that the man and the woman were indeed pursuing him.

_What now?_ The panicked thought surfaced above the confused turmoil of his mind. _What can I do besides… Ah, I hope the people in this market are more understanding…_

He veered towards the houses that closely lined the street, hoping to stay hidden. Looking behind him once more, Blumiere was surprised to see that he was no longer being chased. He slowed his pace, scanning the street where the two humans had been just a moment ago.

"Look out!"

Blumiere gasped as he ran full-force into another being, causing both of them to tumble forward and hit the ground with a _thud._ He landed on his stomach, coughing as the wind was knocked out of him.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir! Are you al-?" The woman he had run into suddenly cut off her apology. Looking up at her, Blumiere noticed that she was covering her face with both hands. Her mouth was open in a noiseless yell, and her brown eyes were wide with terror. Finally, she regained her voice and screamed obnoxiously.

The whole town square seemed to pause as every human in the area stared directly at him. Even the birds and the rustling leaves appeared to fall silent. Then, a low murmur floated about the crowd. Curious and fretful whispers filled the air, gradually escalating into panicked accusations.

" _Look at him… look at his_ skin…"

" _He's… blue… One of those darkness wizards, no doubt…"_

" _What is he doing here?"_

" _What if they're planning to invade? They'll take even more away from us!"_

Blumiere shrank back, overwhelmed by these accusations and ridiculous insults. He raised one hand to his face and studied the dark blue color. It was certainly different than the pale skin of the humans, but… why did that matter? He understood that his family was the reason so much of this town had been destroyed; the cause of so many humans' deaths. But that was far in the past, and the Tribe's power had lessened significantly with his great-grandfather's passing; no one had been killed since. _Well… Except for…_

A fiery string of enraged expletives jolted him out of his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet and turned to see a woman approaching him. Noticing the cleaning utensil in her hand, Blumiere realized this was the same broom-wielding woman that had attacked him earlier. She continued yelling insulting and racist things that likely echoed the words of everyone's thoughts; things they were too afraid to say out loud.

Blumiere stepped backward, apologizing quietly. As soon as he moved, the humans fell silent again. He could feel the terrified stares of everyone in the square, watching him with fear-filled gazes, wondering what he'd do next.

_But what can I do?_ He thought desperately, _I have to get out of here!_ Glancing above the humans' heads, he spotted a road on the opposite side of the square. It was currently empty, and appeared to lead out of town. _Is that my only option?_ Figuring he'd better do _something_ before these people attacked him, he went against his better judgment and dashed towards the crowd, hoping to make it through to the other side.

As soon as he moved towards them, the mass of humans erupted into panicked gasps and screams. The entire square was thrown into chaos, and the pale-faced beings began to scatter, running in every direction except towards Blumiere. It was as if he were running through a parted sea, with swarms of humans on either side. He was able to reach the other side of the clearing with ease.

Once he stepped onto the road, he paused momentarily to glance back at the crowd. _I've done nothing to you!_ was his exasperated thought. _And yet you run about…_

Horror stricken parents herded their young ones inside their houses, frantic vendors tried to salvage their crops, and casual shoppers scrambled back into the streets outside the square. Soon Blumiere was the only being that remained.

The empty town lay before him. The elegant forest loomed behind him. In this moment he had a choice to make. Should he go back through town and risk being attacked by the humans, or try to brave the forest and risk getting lost?

In the distance he caught sight of something moving, and as he held the cold gaze of a pale-faced man he knew the decision had been made for him. Without a word he turned around, unprepared but willing to face the unknown.

* * *

Blumiere wandered aimlessly. It had been merely fifteen minutes, and already he felt as though he were lost. But his priorities were not on finding the right direction. He was too busy mulling over what had just happened, and finally he stopped walking altogether, sitting down beneath a large tree.

Once again he examined his hand. He quite enjoyed the dark blue color; it complemented the Tribe's protocol of glowing blue eyes and jet black hair. Briefly he imagined what it would be like if his skin matched the pale golden color of the humans. _If I were human… What if I were a human?_

With this thought he slumped his shoulders, sliding down the tree until it caught the back of his silk shirt and stopped him from going any further. Humans were inconsiderate and rude.

_But why are they like that?_ He pondered. With a shake of his head, he realized the answer to that was too obvious. The humans still hadn't forgotten what Blumiere's ancestor had done.

Nearly two hundred years ago Merlumio, who was only thirteen years old at the time, stole The Dark Prognosticus from The Tribe of Darkness' predecessors, The Ancients.

The Dark Prognosticus was a prophetic tome that foretold the destruction of all existence. It sought out hosts who it deemed worthy of its power and corrupted them. Merlumio was the first to be swayed by this corruption, and he used the book's magical power to destroy half of the town and craft a castle in its place.

The castle became the home of The Tribe of Darkness, and the prophetic tome's power was passed down each generation to the previous wielder's firstborn son. The one who held the power was viewed as the Tribe's king, and, up until Blumiere's grandfather's reign, the king was responsible for organizing attacks on humans who tried to invade.

Rene was a peaceful man, and his first order as King was to create a barrier between the humans and the Tribe, so neither of them would have to trouble the other. So long as no one crossed the line, no one would get hurt.

However, thanks to this act of peace, the Dark Prognosticus' power began to fade. His father's generation was no longer able to craft buildings magically, and Blumiere's generation was provided with magic that was almost non-lethal. By the time he had children, Blumiere guessed his offspring might not have any magic at all.

But in his opinion, the 'peace' was a fair trade for lessened magic, except for the fact that Blumiere hated being trapped in a castle every day of his life. Not to mention he was the youngest tribe member, save for his cousin's daughter, who was not yet a year old.

_But this was a bad idea,_ he decided. _I never should have left the castle, especially… without Father's permission._

Indeed, he'd left on a whim. His father had very strict rules, and staying on castle grounds at all time was one of them. It was perhaps the one he enforced the most, but he was not without reason. _I know Father will be upset if he discovers I've gone. And there's nothing left to do here. I'd best find a way back home._

He started to make his way through the trees again, pushing through bushes and stepping over branches. As the undergrowth grew thicker and the insects buzzed incessantly louder, Blumiere realized he had no idea where he was going. His stomach twisted in fear of being lost, and so at last he stopped to lean against a tree, overwhelmed. Absentmindedly he raised his hand to his face, still studying the color.

Anger brewed inside of him. All of this, everything that had happened…it was because he was _blue._ He was attacked, scorned, shunned and now _lost._ Just because of his skin color. He closed his fist in frustration. When he opened it, a small black orb had appeared in the middle of his palm, rotating slowly. With little effort Blumiere was able to make the orb levitate. He moved it about a meter away to where an orange wildflower was swaying gently in the breeze. The orb dropped right into the center of the bloom; immediately the stamens withered and turned black. Soon the whole flower was corrupted, and it crumbled to the ground, now a tiny pile of ash. Blumiere sighed, closing his hand and replacing it by his side. He was dangerous, indeed, but he'd never use his magic to harm another being. _Never._

Blumiere's dilated magic included these projectiles, a more dangerous contact-magic that polluted the bloodstream, and underdeveloped teleportation.

Even if he was confident in his teleportation skills, using it to get him back home was a terrible idea, as every time he moved from one location to another it set off his 'soul signature.' His father would know immediately where he was, and where he had come from.

_So what do I do?_ He thought desperately. _What_ can _I do?_

He didn't have to linger on that thought. Suddenly, the ground began to rumble rhythmically, and the sound of snapping branches reached Blumiere's ears from a distance. The blue man scrambled to his feet, feeling his stomach lurch in terror. _What…? What is that?_ As the massive vibrations grew more and more intense, distinguished _thuds_ could be heard, as though the creature was jumping repeatedly. Whatever was making this noise was drawing closer… But for some reason Blumiere could not move; it was as if he was rooted into the ground right where he was standing.

A singular, explosive _bark_ sounded and the thing burst through the bushes. Just a glance was enough to send Blumiere scrambling away. Yelling, he spun on his heel and ran as fast as he could.

The _thing_ ; a gigantic black sphere with sharp, silver fangs, insane eyes and a bark loud enough to shatter eardrums, didn't hesitate to give chase. Blumiere ran blindly through the trees, weaving about sporadically in attempt to get further ahead of the crazed beast, all the while screaming like a mad-man.

Without warning, his foot caught on a twisted tree root. He lurched forwards, sprawling head over heels and rolling down an inconveniently placed slope. Thorns and briars scratched his skin on the way down, and he landed hard at the bottom, the air driven out of his lungs. Gasping, he saw the creature appear at the top of the slope. It bounced a few times, as if pondering what to do, and then finally turned to go back into the woods.

Blumiere sighed in exasperation and sat up. He was now in a small, sandy clearing that was surrounded on all sides by trees.

"What now?" he muttered aloud, leaning forwards and holding his head in his hands. Now, not only was he lost, but he was also in danger. That beast could be anywhere, waiting for a chance to chase after him again. A glance at the unobstructed sky revealed that the sun was beginning to set, and with a start he realized that the tribe's evening meal was approaching. _Father will realize I've gone… he'll come looking…_

With a cry of exasperation, Blumiere stood up again. He had about two hours to make it home. And if he didn't make it…

_I'd better get moving,_ Blumiere thought, _or I'll never get there in time._ As he took a step towards the endless canopy of trees around him, the blue-skinned man sighed heavily.

He should have stayed home.


	2. Far From Home Chapter Two

_**Remember** _

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter Two

"M-Melody?"

Small footsteps pattered on the forest floor.

"Hello? Melody, where are yeh?"

A young boy came to rest beneath a large tree, breathing shakily.

"'Ey...! I-I'm sorry for hidin' in the woods! Yeh can come find me now!"

Only the dark, crowded trees of the forest rustled their leaves lazily in response.

"...Melody?"

* * *

Blumiere shook his head in frustration as yet another insect buzzed in his ear. He was tired of walking. His regal silks were covered in dirt, he was hot, exhausted, and… afraid. He cried out as the familiar buzzing filled his ears again. "Stop it!" he yelled, "Just leave me alone!"

Scoffing at himself, he shook his head once more. He sounded childish, yelling like that. Before he tripped on an upcoming tree root, Blumiere stopped walking, leaned against the nearest trunk, and closed his eyes.

_This whole… escapade… everything. It's all… foolish. Childish. I never should have left…_

His thoughts were abruptly cut off as an alarming pain struck his heart, causing him to lurch forwards and clutch at his chest. A terrified scream leaped from his throat. With each heartbeat the pain intensified; it felt as though needles were being pumped through his veins. His body shook as he collapsed on the ground, rendered helpless and still screaming in horror. As he curled up into a ball on the forest floor, Blumiere truly thought he was going to die.

"Sir?"

A youthful voice sounded from behind him, and immediately all of his pain was alleviated. He lay on the ground, confused. A shiver traversed his spine. _What just happened to me?_ he thought, shuddering once more. _One moment I feel like I'm having a heart attack and the next I'm perfectly fine…_

"Sir…? A-are yeh alright?" the voice continued. It appeared to belong to a young male, and was spoken in an odd accent unfamiliar to the man.

Blumiere didn't move. He knew the child would run as soon as he realized the man wasn't human. "I'm fine, thank you," he replied softly, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

The sound of crunching leaves signified that the boy was moving closer, stepping cautiously towards the man who had, just a moment ago, been screaming and writhing on the ground. Blumiere closed his eyes, hoping to appear harmless. The footsteps drew nearer and nearer; he could hear them moving slowly around his head and, at last, come to a halt. A couple of painstakingly long seconds later, a small gasp escaped the child's mouth.

"Y-yeh're a… a blue-face…" The words were spoken in a shaky whisper.

Opening his eyes, Blumiere glanced up at a small human child. He had short, orange hair on top of his round head and sparkling blue eyes, currently widened in terror. A light dusting of freckles graced his cheeks, which were a light, human shade of tan, and he wore rough commoner clothes in fading reds and yellows. At this moment the young boy had his tiny hands fisted and held on either side of his face, bordering his wide-open mouth.

Before the man could say a word, the child took a step, and then began to flee.

But Blumiere was faster. He scrambled to his feet and managed to catch the child's hand before he was able to run even a meter. "Wait! I―"

"No! Please!" the boy yowled, trying to wriggle free. "Let me go! Please…! Please…!" He was crying out frantically, obviously terrified.

The man couldn't let go. He couldn't let this being go on to think that the people of his race were monsters. If he were to escape… There'd be accusations, and proof, _proof_ that his tribe wanted nothing more than to capture and enslave the village. "Young one, I am _not_ going to hurt you!" he exclaimed desperately. "I just… I need your help!"

To his surprise, this phrase effectively worked in calming the boy down. He stopped struggling to escape and stared curiously into Blumiere's glowing, dark blue eyes.

"Y-yeh do…? But yeh're a blue-face… Yeh can fix everythin' with yer magic, can't yeh?" He sniffled, using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.

Without going into detail, Blumiere replied, "No, I'm afraid I cannot. In fact," at this, he knelt down so he was eye-level with the boy. Hesitantly he let go of the child's hand and took hold of his shoulder instead, just in case he tried to run again. "I can't use my magic at all right now. So even if I wanted to hurt you… which I do not," he added quickly, "I wouldn't be able to." He swallowed. He hated lying so blatantly, but surely, in a situation like this, it was for the better…?

The young boy nodded slowly. However, with each bob of his head his face fell more and more downcast. _It looks as though he's going to cry_ , Blumiere realized with a start. Indeed, not a moment later tears filled the child's eyes. He looked away and sniffled in a restricted manner, alluding that perhaps this child felt he was too old to cry, and was ashamed for doing so.

"There, there," Blumiere mumbled kindly, "what's wrong?" He hoped the child wasn't crying in fear of him, but assumed it wasn't so because he hadn't tried to run yet.

The human boy's pale cheeks flushed pink in shame. "I-I was playin' 'ide and seek wit' me best friend, and I 'id in the forest…" he sniffed and looked away, "a-and now I think I'm l-lost!"

Blumiere's eyes narrowed slightly. The boy's words were beginning to slur, and that combined with his odd accent made his sentences very difficult to understand. But the last few words were coherent enough for the man to realize what he was saying. _So we're both lost, then…?_ He decided it would be better for both of them if he kept that information to himself.

"Hush now, it's alright. I'll help you get back home." Blumiere quickly said, hoping to calm the young human down. He patted the boy's head, smiling gently in order to hide his panicked thoughts. _What do I do now? If I keep wandering around with this child following me, we'll likely become even more lost. And of course, that beast is still somewhere nearby…_ Realizing the boy was staring at him expectantly, Blumiere quickly moved on in conversation. "Now, what is your name, young one?"

"Ronan." The child's watery eyes gazed up at him.

"You may call me Blumiere."

Ronan's mouth twitched as it fought between a smile and a frown. "Yeh mean like the color blue? Like yer skin?"

Blumiere furrowed his brow. His name _did_ emphasize his complexion, as he'd discovered long ago. "Hm. I suppose."

"Can I call yeh Blue?"

"Absolutely not," The man stated as sternly as he dared. "Now, let's get going. Do you-" _Know which way to go?_ Blumiere caught himself before he finished the question. He'd have to figure this out on his own.

"Do I what?"

Blumiere shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get going." He examined his surroundings, trying to decide as quickly as possible where to go. He began to walk in the direction he'd come from. _But what about that monster? I'd hate to run into it again, especially now that I have Ronan with me._ He turned around, walking to the thicker trees where Ronan had just been. _But he's been wandering for a while now too, surely. He would have just turned around if that was the right way._ Conflicted, Blumiere finally decided to go someplace right in the middle. _But that's the unknown… it could be the exact opposite direction, and perhaps the monster's cave is somewhere over here…_

By now, Blumiere had paced three circles around the tree he'd been leaning against. Ronan followed him confusedly footstep by footstep.

"Do yeh know which way teh go?" he asked, innocently.

"Yes."

"Then 'ow come we aren't goin' anywhere?"

After some hesitation, Blumiere decided on, "I was chased here by a raving creature, and I'd rather not try to face it again. I'm trying to determine where it could have gone, so we can avoid it." _That's partly true, at least._

To his surprise, Ronan laughed. "There aren't creatures 'ere!"

Blumiere assumed the child hadn't traversed these woods very often, which made sense, seeing as he was lost now. He considered arguing Ronan on the topic, but soon decided stating 'How do you know, you weren't chased by it!' was far too childish.

And childish acts had gotten him into this mess.

Instead, he replied, "Whether or not there truly are creatures, I'd prefer not to take any chances."

"But… If we don't get 'ome soon, it will get dark!" Ronan's voice was thick, and Blumiere feared he might start to cry if they didn't get moving soon.

The blue-skinned man smiled. "You're right, let's get going. I believe we just need to go straight from here." He took his first step in a random direction and, sure enough, Ronan followed his exact movements. Blumiere cringed, feeling extremely guilty. Like a lamb to the slaughter, he might be leading this child to his doom.

They walked in a straight line for nearly five minutes. Eventually, Ronan hesitantly broke the silence.

"Oh, uh Blue?"

" _Blumiere._ "

"Blumiere… Didn't yeh say yeh needed 'elp earlier?"

The man glanced at the boy. _This child is testing me,_ he thought, _he suspects I don't know where I'm going._

"Ah, yes. I was looking for some wildflowers for my mother." Immediately Blumiere regretted his words. He drew a quick, shaky breath and glanced away, hoping Ronan wouldn't notice how he was trembling. He wrung his hands together, hoping to quell the shivers. _I spoke without thinking…_

Luckily, Ronan didn't have much time to notice the blue-skinned man's odd behavior, for suddenly the earth began to shake, and a rhythmic thumping hovered through the trees.

Blumiere's head snapped up, his eyes growing wide; he'd heard that sound before. Ronan looked around as well, though he wasn't scared, but curious.

It was drawing closer, more quickly this time than the last.

"Ronan," he said hastily, motioning towards a tree next to him, "can you climb?"

"Of course! But, Blue…"

"Then climb! I'm coming up too." Blumiere heaved himself onto the first branch. It wobbled underneath his weight, causing him to grasp the trunk fearfully. Looking up, he saw Ronan was already about ten feet higher than he was, sitting comfortably in the crook of a branch. Standing shakily, Blumiere began to slowly advance upwards.

"Mister Blue?"

" _Blumiere,_ " he managed to correct, his voice quivering.

"Sorry. Why are we climbin' the tree? I thought we were goin' 'ome…"

Finally pulling himself up to the branch below Ronan, Blumiere gasped in air, clutching the thin stick beneath him so hard his knuckles turned white. "The creature that chased me earlier is back. I figured-"

Ronan laughed at him, cutting him off. Blumiere, slightly offended, frowned and stared at the boy. "...What?"

The boy's laugh became a giggle, and he began to descend the tree at a speed much faster than Blumiere could have managed.

"Ronan, wait! That _thing_ is still down there!" he started to follow him, climbing downwards at a slower pace. He yelped softly as the branch currently beneath him cracked and bent sideways, throwing his weight off balance and causing him to fall forward. His arms caught on a lower branch and he hung there, helpless. He struggled to find a place to rest his feet, but Ronan was already on the ground.

The black, round creature came into view; Blumiere squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch.

"'Ey, Onyx! Come 'ere, boy!"

Blumiere cracked an eye open. _Onyx? The thing has a name?_ Suddenly, the branch that was holding him snapped, and he plummeted to the ground, screaming. Many of the lower branches beneath him intercepted his fall, and by the time he landed he was on his back, gasping for the air that had been driven out of his lungs.

'Onyx' barked and jumped, causing the ground to shake and the familiar _thud_ to reverberate through the trees. He began to advance on Blumiere, who gasped and scrambled away, backing up until he hit the tree. Onyx continued until he was right in front of Blumiere, who was trembling, one eye closed and the other staring fearfully at the creature.

"Onyx, down boy! C'mere!"

Onyx turned towards the voice, bouncing away.

Ronan stepped forwards, rubbing the smooth surface of his pet, beaming. "This is me pet chain chomp! 'Is name is Onyx."

"So I've gathered," groaned Blumiere, standing slowly and stretching out his back. _I probably should have figured that in the first place. But why would someone want something so terrifying as a pet?_

"And guess what? Now that Onyx's 'ere, we can find the way to me 'ouse! Yeh know the way, don't yeh, boy?"

Of course. The chomp had been his key to freedom all along. Blumiere glowered as subtly as he could manage and muttered, "Alright then, Onyx. Show the way."

Onyx barked and started off in the exact opposite direction they'd just been traveling. Ronan eagerly followed him. Blumiere reluctantly trailed behind, struggling to walk in sync with the tremors of the chain chomp's bouncing. He felt slightly humiliated, but didn't express as much; he remained silent and let the terrifying animal lead the way.

Eventually, he managed to look up at the sky through the trees.

The sun was setting. He was running out of time.


	3. Far From Home Chapter Three

_**Remember** _

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter Three

"I'm gon' teh live in the biggest 'ouse in the woods, and Onyx will be there with 'is kids, and it'll be… spectacular!"

The unlikely pair had only walked a few moments in silence. Now it seemed as though the words coming out of Ronan's mouth were an endless waterfall; Blumiere could hardly get a word in. So he nodded and smiled, still struggling to walk properly in the midst of Onyx's bouncing.

"And Melody will live with me, and you can too, Blue!" Ronan continued, ignoring the man's interjection that ' his name was Blumiere,' and that he should 'try harder to remember to refer to him as such.' "The three o' us would 'ave so much fun together!"

Blumiere chuckled lowly and shook his head. While he knew Ronan's dreams were unrealistic, he didn't want to ruin the boy's aspirations. "I'm not sure that I'll be able to live _with_ you, young one. But I'll do my best to visit often."

The orange-haired boy left Onyx's side and bounded over to Blumiere, suddenly grinning widely. "Ye live in that castle, don't yeh? The big black one above town?"

"I do, indeed."

"Are ye a king or somethin'?"

Blumiere returned the smile at this. "Actually, my father is the king. That makes me-"

"A prince! Yeh're a prince!" Ronan exclaimed, his face brightening.

"That's correct," the man nodded. Unlike the human, however, the blue-skinned man grew suddenly depressed at this. The term 'prince' was indeed proper, though Blumiere realized just how unlike a prince he actually was.

His father, the 'king,' didn't exactly rule over anything. The people of the town feared him, yes, but he didn't govern them, or ensure their wellbeing, or anything of the sort. He was a 'prince,' but other than the fact that he lived in a castle, his life did not parallel that of storybook prince.

"Can I come an' live with yeh in yer castle?" Ronan pleaded excitedly, interrupting Blumiere's thoughts."

The blue-skinned man frowned at that. _What would father think if he found out about this? He's always forbidden us from entering the humans' town; I can't imagine what he'd do if I brought one home._ He shuddered.

"Blue?"

" _Blumiere,_ " was the absentminded response.

"Can I see the castle, please? Can Melody come too?"

Blumiere put a hand to his head and sighed. He really didn't want to answer that question, especially since he had no idea how to explain to Ronan why he couldn't come and visit the castle. So he replied with a question of his own: "You've mentioned this 'Melody' quite a bit now, Ronan. Do you mind telling me who she is?"

The orange-haired boy frowned a bit, as he was upset that his initial question hadn't been answered, but he answered Blumiere's new question anyway. "Melody is me best friend! We play together all the time, even though she's a girl 'n she's little."

"How old is Melody?"

"She's only six. But I'm almost nine!" Ronan grinned. "I'm really old!"

Blumiere chuckled at that. _And I'm nearly twenty,_ he realized. _I'm more than two times as old as this child._

Suddenly, Ronan's pet chain chomp began to bounce wildly, as if it were excited about something. It jumped in place a few times before taking off into the forest. "Hey-!" Blumiere was about to tell Ronan to retrieve his pet, but the human child was already running off, giggling.

Now alone again, the blue-skinned man sighed and trudged onward in the direction Onyx and Ronan had traveled. Looking through the woods to his right, he realized he could see the silhouettes of houses from the humans' town. They were far enough away that he likely wouldn't be seen by any passersby, though Blumiere couldn't help but be nervous. The humans were frightening creatures.

Soon he came upon a small clearing in the forest. Two houses resided here, set back away from the town a bit. One house was simple and rectangular, painted a light shade of gray. The other, set perpendicular to the first, was slightly more complex and appeared to have two stories. This one was not painted, but had layered wood siding and tar shingles. To the left of both houses (or directly behind, from Blumiere's point of view) was a large stream that flowed in the direction of the town.

Ronan was standing outside of the gray house, speaking to a young girl Blumiere assumed must be Melody. Onyx had settled down a few meters away.

As the blue-skinned man neared the two children, he deliberately stayed out of sight, as he was afraid Melody might panic when she saw him. He settled down behind a tree not far from the children and caught their conversation.

"Meanie-head!" Melody was saying, "I said no going into the forest! I looked and looked and I couldn't find you, and I thought you died!"

"I'm sorry… But don't worry, I'm never goin' back in there again! It was really scary!" Ronan paused a moment. "But I made a new friend! Do yeh want to meet 'im?"

Blumiere cringed at that. _I hope Ronan will at least warn her- URK!_

Gasping, the man fell forward suddenly, clutching at his chest. The horrible pains from earlier were back, like sharp claws closing tightly around his heart. He cried out, sprawling out on the ground.

In an instant Ronan was leaning over him. "Blue! Blue, are you okay?"

Through blurred vision he could see Melody cowering behind the boy, eyeing him cautiously with clear blue orbs. She had a hand held over her mouth, and her eyebrows were arched in both fear and curiosity. A light gray sundress twirled around her bare feet, and blonde hair tied up in pigtails fell over her shoulder. "Wh-who is that…?" she whispered.

"It's me friend," Ronan answered quickly, before turning back to the blue-skinned man. "Blue…? What's wrong?"

But Blumiere had stopped writhing in pain and was now lying exhausted on the forest floor, gasping for breath. Just as before, the terrible episode had started and stopped in the matter of a minute.

"B-Blue…?"

Blumiere sat up slowly. His head was spinning, but other than that he was perfectly fine. "I'm...alright, Ronan," he muttered.

As he spoke the young girl giggled quietly, as if she couldn't help herself. She whispered something to Ronan, who frowned at her.

Now standing, Blumiere raised an eyebrow confusedly. "Um… hello. I am _Blumiere._ I believe you are Melody, correct? Ronan's friend?"

Instead of answering him, she burst into giggles again. "Ronan!" she sputtered, "You called him Ronan!"

"Is that not his name?" Blumiere deadpanned.

Melody shook her head, while Ronan nodded his.

"His name is O'Chunks!" Melody grinned. "He's a warrior and he's really strong and he likes to chunk things! When we play sometimes he's the hero and I'm the princess 'cuz he saved- saves me!"

Blumiere smiled at the boy, amused by the child's nickname. "O'Chunks? Is that what I should call you?"

"N-no…" the boy stuttered shyly. "Only M-Melody calls me that…" He shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks growing red. "Yeh, well… we better go 'ome…"

Melody jumped, as if suddenly realizing they had somewhere to go. Turning to Ronan, she said, "Oh yeah! Miss Kirsby is waiting for you! She told me to go find you and tell you. It's almost suppertime." She spun around and headed off towards the small gray house. Ronan began to follow her, but Blumiere trailed behind, unpleasantly reminded of the real task at hand.

"Ronan," he called hastily, "I have to go." Blumiere was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt as though it were closing. _Father! He'll be looking for me! He can't find out I left to visit the humans!_

"Wait!" cried Ronan, waving his arms frantically. "You'll come back, right? Ye 'ave teh come back!"

_I won't be going anywhere if Father finds out about this._ He paused briefly. "I'll be back," he called.

"Promise?"

Blumiere took a deep, strained breath. "I promise." He held Ronan's gaze as he walked backward for three steps, and then turned towards the human town, beginning a race against the setting sun. He approached the stream with caution, relieved to find a small bridge across a portion of it. He crossed it, immediately veering deeper into the forest and away from the houses that were coming into view.

For most of the run, he kept to the outside of the town, weaving through the trees and keeping out of sight. However, he knew he'd have to go through it at some point, as the pathway to the hill where the castle resided was located at the beginning of the town. Even from here he could see his home's dark obsidian walls, casting a never-ending shadow over the houses.

As the entrance to town came into view, fear suddenly hit him full force. _He's going to kill me! Ah, what was I thinking, entering the humans' town? I could have been… beaten, or… murdered!_

He reached the cliff base, which by now was shrouded in darkness. A few meters away was the beginning of the cobblestone pathway that led to the castle. His foot touched the road hesitantly. No one was in the street, and it was unlikely that anyone would notice his skin color in the darkness, even if he was spotted. Despite all of this, Blumiere decided the best course of action would be to sprint down the street, praying to every divine being he could think of that no human would notice him.

The first path on the left led up the hill to the castle. It was blocked by a tall, black gate with no lock; it was common sense not to pass through it. He noticed a few humans mingling, whispering in groups down the pathway to the right, and he slipped through the gate as fast as he could so they wouldn't see him.

On the other side of the gate was a black stone path that wove its way up the hill, mostly obscured by trees; he wouldn't have to worry about being seen from this side.

Wishing he could stop to catch his breath, Blumiere slowly dragged himself along the path, the elevation making it all the more difficult. Finally, after three turns, the castle entrance came into view. It was still a bit dark up here, as the sun set directly behind the castle, but it was lighter than what it was at the cliff base, and a few lanterns glowing with blue orbs lined the path.

Despite being a completely black castle, it had a very elegant look. The large arched doorway was free of the spikes and bars many thought might be blocking it, and instead contained two majestic black doors that closed together in the middle. They were decorated with light gray spirals, complete with a border of tiny blue hearts that alternated between right-side-up and upside-down.

The stone pathway branched at the door. To the left was a large garden filled with various flowers and shrubs that cast a sweet smell over the entrance of the castle. The right path lead to a large courtyard containing a small chapel used for marriages, and very rarely used at that. The only marriage Blumiere could remember was the one that took place two years ago, uniting his oldest brother with his first cousin.

The entire castle was complex and tall, with many spiraling towers and long hallways all decorated in black, bright red and navy. Thick trees and bushes covered the very edge of the cliff, obscuring the view from the townspeople; they had no idea what it truly looked like.

Blumiere placed his hand on the gracefully crafted loop door handle and pushed, only to stumble forwards as the door opened faster from the inside.

A tall man was standing there, blocking his way. He had the same blue skin and black hair as Blumiere, but his hair was short and choppy, and his eyes glowed a blue much deeper than that of the younger man's. He was dressed in a bright red robe with black silks underneath.

Quickly straightening up, Blumiere dipped his head. "Good evening, Aldrik."

The older man also bowed his head, a slightly irritated expression on his face. "Blumiere. Your father has been looking for you."

"Ah, yes," Blumiere stuttered. "I was in the gardens…with mother's oleanders."

Aldrik hummed. "I understand, sir. But your father sent me looking earlier, and you most certainly weren't in the gardens then."

"Yes, well, I did pay mother's grave a visit. Perhaps you came to look for me when I was at the tomb. You must have missed me."

It had been just over seven years, now, since his mother had passed. He still visited her grave often, so it was a viable excuse. Aldrik nodded and opened the door completely, letting Blumiere in.

They traveled down the black hallway, brightened by red and blue carpeting and banners, as well as patterned wall sconces lit with blue flames that flickered wildly. "My apologies, sir," Aldrik murmured. "I forget you still pay visits to Queen Anastaise often. Perhaps I'm due to pay her my respects as well, I haven't been there in a while."

Blumiere laughed once in a quiet and humorless manner, a melancholy smile on his face. He really hadn't meant to bring up this conversation. "I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

They continued to the end of the hall in silence, coming to another large doorway similar to the outside one. It lead to the Grand Hall, where his father and family were no doubt waiting for him with supper.

Upon entering the room, Blumiere's father got up from his chair at the long table and rushed over. Aldrik bowed.

"King Basile," he said, keeping his eyes lowered. "Your son has just returned from visiting the late Queen. He explained that this was his reason for his tardiness to dinner."

Basile placed a hand on his son's shoulder and looked him in the eyes, the deep sorrow hidden within his blue irises now quite evident. He didn't say a word, but nodded once in understanding. The King hadn't taken his wife's death very well. It was why he was so protective of his sons and the rest of his family; he was so afraid of losing anyone else.

Blumiere took his place between his closest brother Rene and his cousin and sister-in-law, Arabelle. Neither looked at him.

As the small family of eleven ate, various conversations drifted about. Blumiere didn't speak, however, and only picked at his food, occasionally looking up to glance at his family. _We_ ' _re all…_ blue _. So what? Why does that matter_? But it did. The humans, except for Ronan, hated him. His family hated the humans. Was this the lifestyle he was expected to accept?

_Mother… Mother didn't accept it. Now she's dead._


	4. Shifting Chapter One

_**Remember** _

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter One

_"Where are you going, Mother?"_

_Queen Anastaise turned around, unaware that she had been followed by her youngest son. "Oh, Blumiere. I'm only going for a walk."_

_"Are you visiting the humans? Can I come?"_

_She knelt beside the ten-year-old boy, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You remember what your Father says…"_

_He sighed. "I know. 'Stay away from them.' But why can you visit them and I can't?"_

_"Blumiere," she murmured softly, "the humans are dangerous. I'm not sure how they might treat a young child like you."_

_"But what about you?" he whispered. "Will they hurt you?"_

_"Of course not," was the calming response. "I'll be careful."_

* * *

It was nearly a week before Blumiere was able to sneak out again.

It wasn't easy, considering that there were only twelve of them total living in the castle, including his infant niece. It was easy to notice if one was missing, especially because leaving castle grounds was forbidden, and there wasn't much to be occupied with outside. Despite all of this, Blumiere was finally able to convince his father that he needed some time alone, and that he would be outside of the castle until supper. Presently it was just after breakfast; he'd made it clear he'd be eating lunch outside by himself.

Blumiere emerged from the castle, exhausted and glad he was finally out of the confining building. Dressed in all black, he wore silk pants and gloves with matching boots. Also part of his attire was a button-up shirt and a long black hooded cape with a red pearl clasp. The inside of the cape was a silky red. It had a hidden pocket, and the opening was so concealed that he sometimes had to search for it before he could access it.

Before heading into the town, he walked the border of the hill, checking for a way down that didn't involve glaring, screaming, inconsiderate humans. Unfortunately, there wasn't any, unless he wanted to take a very long fall.

Slowly he made his way back to the front of the castle, and was able to slip unnoticed down the pathway towards town. As he turned the last corner before the gate, he stopped dead. Humans were everywhere, crowding the street, rushing back and forth, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Blumiere had to quickly jump back around the corner to avoid being seen.

 _There are so many!_ He thought exasperatedly. _And they're all so close! What do I do?_ He peeked around again, surveying the scene. Humans clogged the paths, providing for no extra space that he might be able to slip through. A young human child made eye contact with him and began to cry, so Blumiere retreated back to his hiding place, breathing heavily.

 _There's no way through. I'll never make it._ Defeated, Blumiere decided to find another way. _I promised Ronan I'd go see him again. I have to find a way!_

He climbed the pathway up to the first sharp turn, where it began to ascend in the opposite direction. On the level ground before the turn was a small grassy clearing with a wooden bench right in the middle. Behind the bench was a thick patch of thorny bushes, and directly after them was a steep drop down into the woods right on the edge of town.

 _It's the only other way… At least the drop isn't nearly as far as from the top of the hill._ He placed a black-gloved hand on one of the bushes and pulled away. The thorns immediately snagged on the silk fabric. Glancing down at the rest of his clothes, he realized he wouldn't be able to get through without causing serious damage to his royal attire, and the bush was far too tall and wide to jump over.

Kneeling down, he noticed that there was a small space in between them where the branches of each bush were closer together, growing further apart as the plant grew taller. Deciding this was the only other option, Blumiere removed his gloves and slid them into his pants pocket; then unclasped the front of his cape and rolled it up, tucking it under his arm.

_Well, here goes nothing…_

Crawling through the hole proved to be much more difficult that he'd initially assumed. The thorns of the bush scraped along his back, and it was difficult to move his arms in such a small space. Finally, after nearly five minutes of shuffling, he made it through to the other side. The ground immediately gave way to a short drop. If he tried to go down this way, he'd likely end up falling the length of the drop, as there wasn't much for footholds along the earthy wall.

He tried to turn around so he could find a less dangerous route, but the edge of the drop began to crumble, and soon he was falling backward, unable to scramble back onto the grass. He managed to hold back a surprised yelp as he fell about five meters to the ground. Landing stiffly on one foot, he stumbled a bit and winced.

"Thank goodness no one saw that," he muttered to himself, brushing the excess dirt from his clothing. "That might have been embarrassing."

Looking around, he saw that he was now on the very edge of town; he could see the brick walls of houses through the trees, as well as the entrance he had used during his first experience in the human's village. By walking alongside the town through the trees, he'd be able to reach Ronan's house.

Blumiere, after a short recovery, began moving slowly through the thin line of forest, trying to keep behind the trees so he wouldn't be spotted from the town. He'd already contemplated heading further into the woods and traveling at a distance, but he really didn't want to risk getting lost.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. A rustling, like someone running, could be heard. Blumiere was currently behind a tree, and as the noise got louder he dared to peek around to see what or who had made the noise.

Almost immediately he was plowed into by a small being, and he stumbled, falling backward into the foliage and leaf mold on the forest floor. When he sat up, he saw what had run into him… and gasped. The young girl that was now lying across his feet had bright lime-colored skin. Her hair was the same hue, perhaps a shade darker, and was tied up in two pigtails with small yellow ribbons. She wore a short yellow dress with small white dots and no shoes. Presently she was breathing heavily, covering her eyes with trembling hands.

Blumiere didn't know what to think of this. All his life he was led to believe that there were two types of beings: the Tribe of Darkness and the humans. There was blue skin and there was pale skin, but there was never… _green._

The young girl got to her feet quickly, seemingly about to apologize, but she stopped, her ruby-red eyes widening. "Blue," she whispered.

Blumiere initially thought she was calling him by his skin color, but as the word replayed in his mind, he realized something. She hadn't said it in a scared or angry way, but almost as if she were saying his name.

 _'Blue,' that's what Ronan called me._ His eyes grew slightly wider. "...Melody?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it and turned away. "Th-that's not my name," she finally said, and for a moment Blumiere felt embarrassed for his mistake, but she continued, "I'm only Melody when I'm a human..."

Blumiere narrowed his eyes dubiously. Melody wasn't human? Melody wasn't even _Melody?_ Why was she here now, running through the woods? Why had she changed her name, and… why was she g _reen?_ "So, are you…? Why are you…?" he fumbled over his words, struggling to express the overwhelming confusion that was clouding him.

She turned back around to face him. "I'm supposed to be like this I guess," she mumbled with a look of melancholy, continuing his words for him. "I… I can… _change…_ "

"Into a human?"

She nodded. "Into anyone I want. A-and that's why…"

"Why…?" he prodded.

She sighed. "Why I'm running. Th-there's an old man who makes me ch-change. H-he sometimes tells me I have to go t-to his h-house, but he was getting really m-mean so I ran away."

Blumiere furrowed his brow in worry. An odd feeling overcame him, and he suddenly realized what danger this young girl might be in. An urge to protect her filled him and, squinting off towards the town, he asked, "Is he looking for you?"

She drew a deep, shaky breath. "Y-yeah… a-and I can't change into a human anymore…" Mimi trailed off, her body heaving as she tried to hold back sobs. "I-If the people see my sk-skin, they get scared…"

Blumiere nodded in understanding; he knew exactly what that was like. Were the humans so discriminant towards anyone who didn't share their pale complexion? "It's going to be alright," he said softly. "Let me help you."

Mimi stared at him skeptically through her tears, but nodded slowly. "O-okay…"

"Come," Blumiere instructed. "Let's visit Ronan." The young boy's house was much closer than the castle was, and besides, Blumiere's father surely wouldn't take kindly to a visitor, even if Mimi wasn't human.

To Blumiere's surprise, the girl began to shake her head in a fearful manner. "No, no! We can't go there now!"

At first, Blumiere was confused, but then he realized that Mimi probably would've gone there to seek help first unless she had a good reason not to. S _he knows much more about this place than I do._

"Well… let's find a place, then," Blumiere muttered, more to himself than to Mimi.

Wide ruby eyes blinked up at him. "Th-there's another place that w-we can go to," the green-skinned girl suggested, "the place I was g-gonna go. It's the nice lady's house."

"The nice lady's house?" his cerulean eyes narrowed. Was there another house outside of town other than Ronan's? Or was Mimi suggesting they go back in town? Relief washed over Blumiere as Mimi started walking away from the town's border, but he was still skeptical.

A few steps away she stopped and turned to see if he was following her. The yellow dress she wore twirled around her ankles, shadowing her movements. "Come on," she said, walking back and grabbing his hand with her small fingers. "Let's go!" It seemed any trace of her upset mood had faded.

Blumiere, finding her sudden attraction to his hand a bit unordinary, shifted his hand so he could hold hers properly. She tugged lightly, eager to get going, so Blumiere gave in and let her lead him through the forest.

As they walked he was able to look at her closely, and for the first time since they'd met Blumiere noticed how scrawny she looked; her ribs were sharp with hunger. His heart skipped a beat as he noticed ugly scars tattooing her skin; a few had matching bruises. _What does Mimi go through when no one's around to protect her?_ Many questions surfaced in his mind, and an uneasy sickness filled his stomach.

"Mimi," he started, breaking the silence. "I never did ask you: Why can't you turn back into a human right now?"

"I dunno," the small girl chirped. "It just stops working sometimes." She began to walk a bit faster, as if to escape Blumiere's questioning.

He didn't say anything further, but he couldn't ignore the questions pestering him. Perhaps the 'nice lady' would know more about this mysterious child.

Mimi led him to the edge of the forest, where the trees faded away to a beautiful meadow that stretched for as far as Blumiere could see. Flowers in a rainbow of colors dappled the long grass, swaying in the light breeze. Fat bumblebees hovered lazily from stamen to stamen, collecting pollen, and butterflies fluttered to and fro, making the meadow seem alive with movement.

"C'mon, Blue, her house is over there!" Mimi pointed off into the distance, where a small shape was barely visible on the horizon. It would be a long walk.

By this point, Blumiere had given up correcting the use of the 'Blue' nickname. _Perhaps when the children are older, they'll…_

His train of thought halted suddenly; his footsteps stuttered and he nearly tripped himself. When the children got older…? How long did he intend to keep visiting them? Surely his father would get suspicious sooner or later, and when he found out…

Ronan had asked him to come back and see him again. _Will that be the last time? I'm sure he'll keep asking for my return, and how can I say no?_ He could stay home and leave the humans be, but Ronan might do something reckless. A vision of the young boy walking up to the castle in search of his lost friend appeared in Blumiere's mind, and he shuddered. It seemed he was stuck between a rock and a hard place with no way out.

Mimi suddenly let go of his hand and raced away, causing Blumiere to be jolted out of his thoughts. They had reached the small house at last, and Mimi had left his side to knock on the door.

After a moment of silence, she knocked again.

 _Is this woman even home?_ he wondered. Then reality hit him like a cold splash of water. This woman, who Mimi had insisted on finding, was likely human. What would she think of him? Sure, she had taken in Mimi, but the young girl didn't belong to a race infamous for murdering half of the humans in the town.

"She's not home…" Mimi's quiet voice broke his concentration, and he was brought back to the present. "She's probably in town..."

Blumiere sighed. "Alright. So where-"

"We have to wait until noon," Mimi explained. "Then O'Chunks' Nanna will be gone."

 _So that's why we couldn't go there earlier. Ronan's grandmother is probably like the other humans, which means she wouldn't appreciate me being there either._ Blumiere nodded, glad that he could finally begin piecing information together. There were still so many unanswered questions, however…

"Let's leave now," he said, with a glance at the ascending sun. "We should arrive at Ronan's shortly after noon."


	5. Shifting Chapter Two

_**Remember** _

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter Two

The sound of shuffling feet and frantic whispers drowned out the strained coughing of a young girl who lay in her bed, nearly suffocating underneath the mountain of blankets that were attempting to keep her warm. Her arms were pinned at her side, restricting her movement and making her entirely uncomfortable.

"Mamma…" her weak cry was barely audible, but the keen ears of her mother, who was standing nearby with a few others, picked up the sound of her daughter in distress and immediately stepped to her side.

"What is it, darling?"

"I'm thirsty," she rasped, "and my head hurts… M-Mamma…"

"Shhh." Tears pricked the eyes of the poor girl's mother. She brought a hand to the burning forehead of her daughter, hoping to offer some relief to the suffering girl. "I'll fetch you some water."

For another moment she lingered there, stroking the thin blonde hair that folded in piles beside the sick child's head, free from the pigtails that she so adored. Glassy blue eyes studied her, and then closed.

With a sigh, the child's mother left the room.

"How is Melody?"

"She's… getting worse, David."

In the kitchen now, the woman poured a small amount of water into a glass. David hovered nearby, watching her absentmindedly. Worry creased his brow.

It had been a week, now, since Melody had fallen ill. At first, it seemed like a simple case of influenza, but as the days continued to end with no signs of improvement, it became clear that this was something much worse. They'd called every doctor in town, but so far none of their offered remedies had worked.

"Sarah!"

"Miss Sarah, come quickly!"

Reacting immediately to the frantic shouts coming from the bedroom, the woman whirled around and re-entered the small room, a dark sense of dread falling over her.

Inside, one of the doctors was leaning over Melody, holding a wet washcloth to her forehead. The girl's eyes were closed and a distressed frown creased her face.

"She's fallen unconscious again," the doctor muttered, "and her breathing is growing shallow. I-I'm not sure if there's much more we can do… We've already given her as much medicine as her body can handle…"

Sarah came to stand beside the doctor, her shaking hands reaching out to her daughter. Tears stung her eyes once more, and as they fell onto her cheeks she touched Melody's face for the last time. The child had stopped breathing.

* * *

Ronan met Blumiere and Mimi just outside the clearing where his house resided; it seemed he had been waiting there for their arrival. He perked up as he saw them approaching and bounded across the forest floor, grinning.

"Blue? I thought yeh'd never come back!" He launched himself forwards, and Blumiere was unprepared for the child's gleeful bear-hug. "What took yeh so…" The orange-haired boy trailed off as he saw Mimi. He glanced back and forth between the girl and Blumiere, a look of bewilderment on his face. At last, he released the man and turned to the green-skinned girl.

"Mimi…?" he whispered, in a voice just loud enough for Blumiere to hear.

Mimi studied the ground with her ruby-red eyes and folded her arms behind her back, rocking slightly on her feet. "Yeah…" she squeaked in reply.

"What 'appened?"

"I-I dunno, it stopped working…"

"Stopped working?"

"Th-the human one, it's not working!"

By now the conversation had escalated to where Blumiere could hear every word. "So wh-what're yeh goin' teh do?" Ronan inquired anxiously. "Don't think me Nanna'll let yeh stay if yer skin's green…"

Mimi was silent. She shrugged her petite shoulders, still studying the grass at her feet.

Ronan turned worried eyes to Blumiere. "What do we do?"

 _Am I supposed to have an answer to that?_ Blumiere thought, perplexed. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even completely understand the problem. Melody, or Mimi, couldn't retain her human form and was stuck with permanently green skin and red eyes. He knew this was a problem, for the same reason that his blue skin was a problem, but he most certainly did not have a solution. "I-I… I'll think of something," he muttered, feeling a bit ashamed.

Ronan suddenly piped up. "Oh! I know! She could live with you, Blue!"

"I don't-"

Before Blumiere could protest, Mimi turned on him, eyes sparkling. "Ooh! Can I, Blue? Please?"

The man reluctantly shook his head. "My father would not allow it."

Silence settled over the three different colored beings, thick and heavy. Nothing moved, save for the ever-so-slight breeze that ruffled the grass. The tension was powerful enough to cause their ears to ring.

Blumiere had never felt so helpless. Mimi was in trouble and he could do absolutely nothing to help her. _Be responsible,_ he told himself. _Think of something; you're the eldest here._ But he couldn't think of anything. His mind was a desolate wasteland. "I'll think of something," he repeated, but his tone betrayed his uncertainty.

Once again, Ronan broke the heavy silence with his cheerful voice. "Uh, I got yeh a present, Blue!"

"Oh?" Blumiere was surprised, but relieved that the conversation could move on from its awkward stand-still.

"Y-Yeah, I was playin' in the stream yesterday," the boy continued, drawing a small object out of his pocket, "and I found this stone… Look Blue, it matches yer skin!"

Sure enough, the small rock Ronan presented was a brilliant cerulean, a hue that matched Blumiere's skin tone perfectly. The orange-haired child stepped closer to Blumiere, urging him to accept the gift.

He took the stone, finding that it was remarkably smooth. "It's wonderful, Ronan. You have a good eye for picking this out," he praised.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blumiere noticed that Mimi had disappeared and was now returning, holding her hands behind her back.

"I have a present for you, too!" she exclaimed, skipping up to him excitedly and revealing what she was hiding. Three yellow flowers were clutched in her tiny hands, freshly picked. It was obviously impromptu, but that didn't stop Blumiere from taking it as a heartfelt gesture.

"Thank you, Mimi. They're beautiful. And thank you, Ronan, for the stone."

Without warning, Mimi screamed in terror; Blumiere snapped to attention, startled. Ronan and Mimi stood rigidly before him, staring at some unseen horror behind Blumiere. Before he could turn around and see what they were directing their fear at, he heard a voice that sent a shiver down his spine.

" _Blumiere._ "

Ronan and Mimi cowered, staring at the imposing figure whose tall shadow covered Blumiere in darkness. Finding it hard to breathe, he drew a choppy gasp of air and gathered the courage to turn around.

"Father… I-I wasn't expecting to see _you_ here…"

King Basile took a step closer, towering over his youngest son. "I could say the same thing of you, my son. Tell me, what prompted you to disobey my commands?"

To anyone else, the King might have only sounded slightly frustrated, for he did not yell, nor did he stomp the ground or make other indications that he was angry. However, Blumiere could tell, because of the low tone that Basile spoke in, and the way he emphasized every word, that his father was furious. He would have to choose his next words carefully, or he would trigger the true anger that was no doubt boiling beneath his father's skin.

However, before he could speak, Blumiere realized that his father had averted his angry gaze elsewhere. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Ronan and Mimi had advanced to stand behind him. Both children were trembling, and Mimi was peering out from behind her friend's arm, but Ronan had a determined look on his face. His gaze drifted back to his father, just in time to see him move out of his line of vision. Blumiere tensed, but remained facing the empty forest.

King Basile strode forwards, getting as close as he dared to the children. He glared at them with such malice that even Ronan couldn't help but cower.

" _Humans_?" When Basile finally spoke, it was in a voice full of anger and bewilderment. The volume of his resounding reprimand increased as he continued, "You left the safety of my castle and crossed the boundaries into the town, so you could associate with _humans_?"

 _Why, of course. What else would I come here for?_ Blumiere, swallowed, biting back the thought and locking it away. Such a childish rebuttal would certainly only cause more trouble, and that was the last thing he needed; surely his punishment was large enough already. Before he could begin to mull over just what kind of punishment he might be receiving, Blumiere heard Ronan's tiny, brave voice.

"An' what's wrong with 'umans, eh? Besides, Blue was only 'elpin' us! 'E's our friend!"

This news caused King Basile to turn on his son, outraged.

The prince continued to stand facing away from his father, but still lowered his eyes to the ground, as if to avoid eye-contact with Basile. He wanted so badly to turn around and jump in between his father and the children; he wanted to _protect them_ , but...

The king released all of his pent-up anger and wasted it on one sentence. "You… made _friends_ … with _humans_?

Blumiere clenched his teeth and scowled, angling his head so his father wouldn't see it, a gesture that made it seem as though he was bowing down before his father. Every part of his mind wanted to scream in outrage, to make his father see just how wrong he was about the humans, but his body wouldn't allow it. He instead remained silent, refusing to respond if only to please the king.

Basile waited for an answer impatiently before finally commanding, "Come, Blumiere. It is time to go home. Say goodbye to your _friends,_ for you shall never see them again."

 _What?_ The prince's head shot up and he whirled around to face his father, despair and frustration prominent in his expression. His eyes widened as he said, "No, father, you don't understand!" He moved closer, suddenly wishing he wasn't so short compared to Basile. "These children, they aren't the monsters you think they are! You're wrong about them, father! They're _nothing_ like the humans who killed mother, and the others only hate us because they're _afraid_! If you would just forget about your foolish suspicions for one second you'd realize that _we_ are _just. Like. Them!_ "

Blumiere leaned back, breathing heavily. However, his rebellious attitude was quickly snuffed out by King Basile's venomous glare, and soon fear was the only emotion in his expression. Dread wormed its way into his stomach as he realized what he'd just said.

Basile's eyes were narrowed to slits, and his head was tilted forwards so his long, black hair fell onto his brow. His normally blue skin was flushed dark purple across his cheeks, and as he finally made eye-contact with his son, he was pushed over the edge.

In a flash, he'd seized the prince's arm. "Blumiere," he growled, "we are going home, _now._ "

The last thing Blumiere saw before his father teleported them both back to the castle was Ronan and Mimi, standing side-by-side, with identical looks of horror on their faces.

* * *

Basile was much more skilled at teleportation than Blumiere ever aspired to be. This was partially because of the dilation of the Tribe's magic during the past two generations, but it was also attributed to Blumiere's lack of desire to learn. The process was extremely difficult, and so far he'd given up on honing the skill, figuring he had no use for teleportation anyway. But as he now sat in front of the rest of his Tribe members, he wished that he could simply vanish and run away from his problems.

The entire Tribe of Darkness was gathered in the grand dining hall, seated around the large table. Not a single member was missing, though there were only twelve of them, including Blumiere.

This meeting, of course, was not one Blumiere was going to enjoy. He typically found meetings boring and monotonous anyway, but this one was going to be particularly uncomfortable. The meeting was called to address Blumiere's 'insubordination' and would simply entail his father retelling what he'd done wrong in front of his Tribesmates and discussing what a fitting punishment would be. Although, as Blumiere recalled, the punishments were hardly 'fitting.'

King Basile was sitting in his usual spot at the head of the table; his youngest son sat behind and to the left of him. Which was another thing Blumiere didn't like about this meeting: he had to stand still, remain silent, and refrain from leaning on his father's chair (which he'd already been reprimanded for). His feet were nearly asleep, and the meeting hadn't even started yet.

But the worst part of this impromptu gathering was the deep feeling of dread and unknowing that had taken home in his stomach. What would his father… do? He couldn't condemn him to the castle; they were all stuck here anyway.

 _Would he send me to my room?_ Blumiere nearly chuckled aloud at this childish thought. That would have been a suitable punishment when he was half of his current age.

Other than that, though… the only thing he could think of was banishment. However, in the back of Blumiere's mind hid the worst possible condemnation. Surely his father couldn't condemn him to… death?

Shaking his head slowly, Blumiere pushed away his thoughts. All of them. Closing his eyes, he remained still and focused on clearing his mind.

His father's deep, booming voice brought Blumiere back to the waking world.

"Good evening, Tribesmates."

Every head around the table bowed in a silent gesture of respect for their King. Blumiere's gaze was already trained on the ground, however, and there it remained. Even so, he could feel the questioning stares of a few of his family members, and the queasy feeling in his stomach increased.

Basile went on, "I've called all of you to this meeting to address the recent misdemeanors of the young man who stands before you."

Blumiere dared to glance upwards momentarily. He happened to make eye-contact with his eldest brother, Abany, but the older man immediately looked away. Blumiere quickly averted his eyes as well, deciding it was best to avoid looking at any of the others.

His father turned to face him as he continued, saying, "This morning I found Blumiere, my youngest son, in the forest outside of the humans' town. Not only had he traveled outside of the castle's boundaries, but when I approached I realized he was _speaking_ with two _human_ children."

The young prince now felt as though every eye was on him. They still kept silent, of course, but Blumiere was sure they were making disgusted remarks within their minds. Bravely, he lifted his head to look across the table to the other end, where Aldrik sat. His uncle caught his gaze and held it, staring with an expression akin to worry. His brow was arched, and Blumiere thought he caught a sigh escape the man's lips.

 _Is he… concerned about me?_ Blumiere had to look away. _Certainly not… he should be as angry as father is right now. So why does he seem so distraught?_ Suddenly realizing that his father was speaking again, the prince bowed his head once more.

"Of course, Tribesmates, such a rebellious act cannot go unpunished."

Blumiere couldn't suppress the shiver that sped down his spine.

"So, after discussing this matter with Aldrik, we have decided that Blumiere shall be put under room-arrest for a full rotation of the moon. He will eat his meals alone until the time is over, and will only be allowed to associate with whoever is guarding his room at the time."

If it were anyone else, Blumiere would have objected to this. He felt utterly humiliated, given a sentence suitable for a child.

"I believe this is a fitting punishment for Blumiere. You are dismissed, Tribesmates."

As one, each member rose from their chairs and quietly left the room. Blumiere knew, of course, that they certainly wouldn't stay quiet. As soon as they would leave the room there would be whispers, gossip about his insubordination. The thought made his stomach tighten.

At last, it was only he and his father left in the room. Basile rose from his chair and finally spoke to him directly.

"Blumiere, my son, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But I am _extremely_ disappointed in you, nonetheless, and I hope you've learned to keep your distance from those monsters."

The prince narrowed his eyes. _The hardest thing you've ever had to do, father? Is that true?_ Blumiere felt a hand on his shoulder. He met his father's dark blue eyes and noticed a deep weariness that betrayed the man's true emotions. Basile wasn't angry at Blumiere, but worried, just as Aldrik was.

"My son, I know you feel that this punishment is unjust, but I want you to understand: I don't know what I would do if I lost you, too."

Blumiere detected a slight quiver in his father's voice that made him sick to his stomach. He hated to hear him like this. _Mother… He's still holding onto her, isn't he. But, no, father,_ you _are the one who does not understand. Humans have changed. Or, some of them, at least._ Turning away, Blumiere shrugged off his father's hand. He wasn't going to argue. "I understand, father. I understand completely."

Basile was silent. It was evident in Blumiere's tone of voice that he understood something different entirely.

_Let her go, father. Then perhaps you will see things with a level head._


	6. Shifting Chapter Three

_**Remember** _

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter Three

Despite the warmth of the mid-summer air, Ronan shivered. He stood in complete bewilderment, unable to take in the entirety of what had just happened. Taking a moment to pat Mimi's light green hair, he tried his best to remain calm.

"I-Is Blue gonna c-come b-back?" Mimi whimpered, looking up at her older companion with tears in her ruby eyes.

Ronan didn't have an answer to that, but he pretended like he did. "'E wouldn't leave us, Mimi, don' worry. 'E'll come back." He fought desperately to keep his own voice from shaking.

"H-How long will it be?"

"Soon, I'm sure."

"W-well then… wh-what do we do now?"

That was a question Ronan couldn't come up with an answer for. His nanna would probably come home before Blumiere did, and Mimi was stuck green. They couldn't do anything with her in this condition.

"A-are yeh sure you can't turn into a 'uman anymore?"

"Not that one," Mimi sighed, hanging her head. "I tried and tried, and I can't find a different human to turn into because I can't go into t-town anymore…"

Ronan glanced sidelong at the green-skinned girl. "A diff'rent 'uman?" he leaned forward in genuine curiosity. "Yeh mean the 'uman you usually turn into is based off o' a real one?"

Nodding, Mimi rubbed her eyes and pulled away from Ronan's half-embrace. "Y-Yeah, there was this little girl I met in t-town one day… She looked so p-pretty a-and…"

The orange-haired boy narrowed his eyes in confusion. So Mimi had been stealing another girl's identity all this time…? "Well- Why didn't yeh tell me this is how yeh did it?" The words fell out of his mouth in a staggered manner. Thoughts whirling, he turned to look at Mimi, who was pacing the forest floor with jittering steps.

"I-I… I thought you'd think it was weird…"

Ronan shook his head and was about to deny Mimi's worried assumption, but was struck by a revelation. "That don't matter anymore, Mimi! I just thought of somethin'! You can turn into _me_ , and we can pretend to be twins! Then we can go back into town and find you a new 'uman to turn into."

A broad grin split Mimi's face and her eyes brightened. "O'Chunks! You're a genius," she giggled. Without further delay, a purple cloud of smoke engulfed Mimi, and when it cleared, Ronan was staring at an exact copy of himself.

"Woah," the boy's jaw dropped in awe. "That's… Do I really look like that?"

Mimi laughed, even her voice sounding identical to her friend's. "I did a good job, huh? Exactly like you!"

Ronan chuckled as well, nodding his head. "It's brilliant! Although… Yeh might need some 'elp with the voice."

"Oh yeah," Mimi said, realizing that she'd forgotten to imitate Ronan's thick accent. She'd tried copying it before, so it wouldn't be too difficult. "'Ow's this? Ah'm O'Chunks, teh bravest warrior in teh whole world!"

"'Ey! I do not say that!" Ronan's face flushed. "A-and don't call me that in front of the townspeople!"

"Don't worry, ah won't. Can we go now?"

"Ah! Right!" Ronan had almost forgotten about the reason Mimi was impersonating him. "Let's go find yeh a pretty 'uman to turn into!"

* * *

Blumiere lay on his bed, staring out the window at the setting sun, a symbol of the end of the first day in his room-turned-prison. He was laying across the foot of the bed, his head hanging off the edge so he could see the sun upside-down. Clouds were beginning to obscure his view, and he realized it was probably going to rain tonight.

His octagonally shaped room had begun to look more and more like a prison. It didn't help that it was located in the top of the frontal west tower, and that the singular window overlooked the gardens. He felt like a princess from a fairy tale, held captive in a towering spire.

After nearly five hours, Blumiere was already bored out of his mind. The only thing to do was lay down, think, and eat. Of course, there was a shelf full of books across from his bed, perpendicular to the window, but all of the books on the shelf were ones he'd already read.

Perhaps he could request that more books be brought to him. _Father would allow that, surely,_ he hoped. _Or maybe I could play chess with someone… Ah, anything but laying around for a month!_

But even worse than the punishment itself was the _concept_ of it. He was nearly twenty years old; a grown man, and he'd been sent to his room as though he were a young boy. It was humiliating, and Blumiere thought for sure that his brothers would never let him live this down. _Why does father feel the need to protect me in such a way?_ The answer came to him immediately: King Basile had already lost so much. He'd lost his older brother to war when he was only six years old, and his wife, Queen Anastaise, had been lost in the same way.

Blumiere's father had every reason to mistrust the humans. But his mistrust had blinded him to the fact that not all humans were the same. They didn't all have the intent to kill them, even if the prime example came in the form of two young children. If Ronan and Mimi could be persuaded to see the true intentions of the Tribe of Darkness, perhaps other humans could as well.

"But that's hopeless," Blumiere whispered, brushing his fingers through his night-sky hair. "I'm stuck in here, and they're out there, alone, and Mimi is in trouble-" The young man's voice caught in his throat and he groaned in exasperation. _Hopeless…_

At that moment, his door creaked open. With a start, Blumiere flung himself forwards so he was sitting up, and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Aldrik was in the doorway, carrying a tray with some food on it.

"Good evening, Blumiere," he greeted, setting the tray down on his bedside table.

"Good evening," he returned politely, still smoothing his hair down. Glancing around, Blumiere realized he had nothing else to say, and began to wait for Aldrik to leave so he could eat his food.

However, Aldrik moved over to the door only to shut it again, before turning back to the prince. He sat down on the bed next to Blumiere and turned to him.

"Blumiere," he sighed, "I need to speak with you."

The young man shifted, subtly scooting over so there was more space between him and Aldrik. He knew what this was about. _I already know what you think. But nothing you say will change the way I feel about the humans._

But Aldrik didn't say anything else. Instead, he sat with his hands folded in his lap and narrowed his eyes. He wore the same expression Blumiere had noticed earlier, at the meeting.

Feeling as though the older man wanted confirmation to go on, Blumiere urged, "Yes? What about?"

A troubled look overwhelmed the man's eyes; he knew everything he needed to say yet could not. Raising his head with much effort, he finally began, "I...I don't know how to tell you, Blumiere, except for speaking outright. You have a cousin, one you didn't previously know about. He… he is my son, as well as the son of Sha'i, my wife."

Blumiere's head spun. Sha'i? Who was that? Why would Aldrik hide the presence of his son from their family? _And why… why is he telling_ me _?_

Noticing his nephew's furrowed brow, Aldrik hurriedly continued on. "I know this may be overwhelming, Blumiere, but Sha'i was… well– well, she was _human_ , and…"

Unable to fully comprehend this, Blumiere put a hand to his forehead. "You married a human," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "Father doesn't know… does he?"

Aldrik's hands were quivering, as if the truth that had been released was now ravaging his body. "No… no, no, no one knows. I don't know what King Basile would do…"

Standing up, Blumiere gestured to the walls around him. "For being _friends_ with human _children_ I've been locked in here for a month. What do you think he'd do if he found out you _married_ one and had a _child_ with her?" He began pacing. "Father can't lock you in your _room_. But perhaps in the dungeon, or perhaps he'd banish you, or even _kill_ you."

"Blumiere!"

"Because he's still trying to avenge mother's death, and he thinks that by associating with the humans we are shaming her." Glancing outside, he noticed that the clouds were darker than before. "He's just too stubborn to see what the humans are really like! If only father would open his eyes…"

" _Blumiere,_ " Aldrik rose next to the younger man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were afraid Basile might be listening to them. "I didn't come here to dispute over the decisions of your father. He is a wise man, but his thoughts have been clouded. You don't know how much he frets… He thinks he's _failing_ the Tribe, Blumiere."

Blumiere understood. He'd seen the look of exhaustion in his father's eyes, the way his shoulders sagged when one of his brothers would question his authority. " _You're not a wielder, father,"_ They'd say. " _Perhaps you're not making the right decisions…"_

Basile was not the firstborn to Blumiere's grandparents. Basile's older brother, Henri, was an extremely powerful magician, and was assumed to be the next wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. However, Henri died when he was seven years old, forcing the crown upon the next in line to the throne: Basile. Unlike his brother, the Dark Prognosticus did not call to him, and he had limited magical abilities. Even worse, Basile's firstborn son, Abany, didn't feel the pull of the Dark Prognosticus either. The Tribe's power was vanishing with each generation, and King Basile took the blame for it.

A distant rumble echoed outside. Blumiere glanced away from Aldrik's intense stare and turned to the window. "So… what then? What _is_ the reason you came to tell me these things?"

"Sha'i is gone, Blumiere. She left after nursing our child and I haven't seen her since."

Aldrik stepped up to the window next to his nephew. "But I think _you_ can find her."

After processing this comment for a moment, Blumiere backed away. "Are you proposing that I should escape?"

"I can help you, Blumiere."

"How?"

Without warning, the door flew open and crashed against the wall, revealing the stern-faced King Basile. "Aldrik!" he bellowed, "Blumiere is not to have company. Let him alone."

"I was delivering his dinner, sir, as you requested." Aldrik started for the doorway, nodding to Blumiere in a silent farewell.

"It's been ten minutes." Basile's glare followed his younger brother as he approached, scrutinizing him. "You know full well that Blumiere is to be _alone_. Come now." Aldrik made his exit, and before Basile followed suit he turned to his son; his gaze had softened. "Goodnight, Blumiere." He shut the door.

The young man backed up, coming to a halt once he reached his bed. His heart was hammering in his chest and blood roared in his ears as he tried to calm himself.

What had his father heard? Were they lucky enough that he hadn't caught the end of their conversation? Quivering, Blumiere sat on the edge of his mattress and held his head in his hands. Aldrik was about to get him out of here, too… He was so close to being able to find Ronan and Mimi, so close to escaping. _What about that… Sha'i?_ Blumiere wondered. He was still finding it hard to believe that his uncle had married a human, and that there was a child… A _cousin_ he never knew about.

Was it viable that his father would kill Aldrik if he found out about the marriage? Perhaps Blumiere had been unrealistic earlier when he'd suggested it. Surely his father wouldn't want to lose another family member. And yet… there was an uncomfortable nagging in the back of his mind that told him this knowledge might be just enough to finally set his father over the edge.

A loud crack of thunder sent chills down his spine. A flash of light illuminated the sky, followed closely by another thunderclap. All at once, rain began to pour from the clouds, beating hard against the glass window-pane. The sconce on the wall next to the window vibrated madly, threatening to spill the blue flame that it held.

Flopping back onto his bed, the blue-faced man stared on in confusion. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his thoughts, and suddenly the smell of warm food met his nose. Sitting up, he realized he'd completely forgotten about his dinner.

A bowl of chicken soup and a warm roll sat on the tray, as well as a glass of water. Eagerly taking it, he ate until he was full, battling with his thoughts all the while.

* * *

It was just after nightfall. As autumn approached and cooler weather came to the small world the sky darkened earlier and earlier. It was about eight o'clock, Blumiere guessed. Since he had nothing else to do, he figured now was as good a time as any to get some rest. Just as he was about to change into his nightclothes, a peculiar sound startled him. He whirled around.

"Aldrik?" Blumiere's surprised expression suddenly turned fearful; then furious. "Aldrik! What are you doing? You know father can track your signature; he'll know you've come-"

Aldrik held up his hand, silencing his nephew. "Hush, Blumiere. I would not be so foolish. Your father has no idea I'm here."

Again, Blumiere was overwhelmed by perplexity. His father was the most powerful magician alive. He'd been able to track Blumiere's soul signature to his exact location and Blumiere hadn't even used teleportation. Aldrik's method of travel would have set off a powerful burst of his signature, alerting the other magic-users that he'd just moved to a new location. Concentrating on the signatures of those around him, Blumiere expected Aldrik's signature to be dominant, but instead he could only pick up the faint signature of his closest brother, whose room was nearby. Staring at Aldrik in bewilderment, Blumiere's cerulean gaze told his uncle that he demanded an explanation.

"I've cloaked my signature," Aldrik said, "but it's only temporary. Now quickly, we must get you out of here so you can be back tomorrow morning-"

"No," Blumiere objected. "I need to know what's going on here. How did you cloak your signature? I may be the least educated in teleportation and certainly the last one to use it, but I know enough to say that cloaking your signature hasn't been possible for decades!"

Aldrik turned to look out the window, avoiding Blumiere's demanding glare. "Yes, well… There are many things you are not well educated in."

Blumiere scoffed.

"There are many spells that still exist, but they are not used because your grandfather forbade them when he called for peace between the humans and the Tribe of Darkness."

The young man narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling Aldrik wasn't telling the whole truth.

Aldrik turned, facing his nephew once more. "But this matters not. Give me your hands, Blumiere."

Taken aback, Blumiere did not comply. "What? My hands?" He held them up defensively, unsure of what was about to take place.

Aldrik took hold of one of his wrists and guided the young man further out into the room. "I am going to take your soul signature away. It is a temporary spell, just like the one that is hiding my signature presently. This must be done if you are to leave the castle undetected."

"Alright..."

Taking Blumiere's other wrist, Aldrik turned them so his palms were facing upwards. He placed a thumb on the insides of Blumiere's wrists over his veins, searching for his pulse. The younger man's deep blue eyes widened, darting around in uncertainty, and a sudden clap of thunder caused him to jump. Unfazed, Aldrik waited for their hearts to beat in sync, before finally shooting a stream of magic directly into his nephew's bloodstream.

Blumiere cried out and tore his hands away, stumbling back and falling on the floor. His wrists burned and his entire body tingled with an unfathomable ferocity; it felt as though steam were rising off of him.

"Ah… ow… W-what did you do to me?" Blumiere exclaimed angrily. "I-it's… It's burning me!"

"Quiet down, Blumiere," Aldrik muttered, stealing a glance at the door, "I've merely transferred a bit of magic from my body to yours. The burning you feel will fade soon."

"What _kind_ of magic?"

Aldrik stepped forwards to help his nephew to his feet. "As I told you before, it is a spell used to cloak your signature."

Shakily, Blumiere stood, rubbing his wrists in attempt to ease the pain. A shiver shot down his spine, causing his entire body to jerk. "Must it be administered in such a way?"

For a moment, Aldrik's expression darkened, and Blumiere thought for certain he spotted something sinister in his uncle's dark blue eyes. But in an instant it vanished, and the man turned away once more to gaze out the window.

"You'll be alright. There are worse spells." Blumiere didn't get a chance to object to that, for Aldrik pressed on, "Now, quickly, you must depart. Teleport down to the gardens. I will meet you in the morning."

Blumiere stepped up beside his uncle, trying to ignore the fading pain. Staring out the window at the drizzling sky and soggy earth, the prince sighed, not looking forward to going outside in such unfavorable conditions. "Very well. But I don't expect to accomplish much in the dark and the rain."

"Please try, Blumiere." Lightning illuminated Aldrik's face, and Blumiere's heart pounded as once again his uncle's expression darkened. "Find Sha'i, and let her know that her son is still alive."

 _Why don't you go yourself?_ Blumiere could've asked. Aldrik could cloak his own signature, so why couldn't he carry out this bizarre search on his own? But at this moment Blumiere wanted nothing more than to leave the man's suffocating presence, even if it meant he would be perpetually confused. He picked a flat spot on the earth below. _Maybe I will find this… Sha'i… Though I don't have a clue what she looks like._ But first, Blumiere decided, he'd look for Mimi and Ronan.

He focused on the earth below. It had been nearly five years since the last time he'd traveled through dimensions alone, but he remembered disliking it. Gathering his energy, he expelled it towards the place he'd chosen.

He was trapped in void-space for nearly three seconds; a blinding white dimension-in-between-dimensions. There was a terrible feeling that came with teleportation; it made it seem as though he were being separated from his body and floating through nothingness. At last he flipped back into existence, immediately feeling drops of rain dampen his hair. He was standing on the cliff-top that overlooked the small town beneath the castle. Glancing up at his bedroom window, he realized Aldrik had already left. He shivered, unnerved by the exchange between him and his uncle.

The grassy cliff was covered in bushes. This area was beyond the garden, which lay behind him. The magically crafted cobblestone paths and trickling fountains created an overall serene feel to the garden, and the plentiful amounts of oleander and belladonna colored the landscape with blues, purples, whites, and reds. The garden hugged the entire left side of the tall, obsidian castle. Tall spires and majestic balconies decorated the otherwise flat bricks, towering high into the sky.

He stepped closer to the edge, contemplating where he should teleport to next. Unless he could vividly imagine his destination beforehand, Blumiere needed to see the place before he could teleport to it.

Beneath Blumiere, surrounding the town, was a thick forest of deciduous trees, many of which bore fruits of various kinds. The cliff was so high, however, that not even the tallest oak tree could reach its branches to touch the soil under his feet. In the darkness, he could not even see the bottom. It certainly was a long drop, he realized, and took a step backward.

As his foot put pressure on an unstable bit of earth loosened by the rain, the edge of the cliff gave way. He soon found himself in mid-air, falling, screaming, hysterically searching for something to hold onto, to soften the blow.

His hands brushed against the rough rocks of the cliff, scraping them painfully as he tried to grab onto something. Suddenly his wrist struck a sharp rock, tearing out a large chunk of skin. It threw him off balance, causing him to spin around mid-air. Panic enveloped him, and he blacked out just before his body hit the muddy ground.


	7. Points of View Chapter One

_**Remember** _

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter One

_At twelve years old, Blumiere spent much of his time outdoors. He would finish his lessons with his aunt and immediately take to the fresh air outside the castle. Often he'd go as near to the cliff's edge as he dared and watch the humans; the pale-faced creatures were mere ants from his position. Today he was waiting anxiously for the return of his mother, who had left the night before to go into the town, for a reason Blumiere could only guess. He did know that she'd left without telling his father, and because of that, curiosity got the best of him._

_It was dawn. The sun had begun to peek over the edge of the horizon. At last, the intricate obsidian gate swung open and Queen Anastaise entered the castle grounds._

" _Mother!" Blumiere couldn't help himself. Overcome with anticipation and excitement, he flew from his makeshift watchtower and threw his arms around his mother._

_Once she had been released from the embrace, Anastaise knelt down and brushed the stray hair from her son's face. "Blumiere," she chided, "what have I told you about waiting up for me? It's still early; you should be asleep."_

_Blumiere wasn't about to admit that he'd followed her to the gate and stayed up most of the night waiting for her. "I wanted to be the first to see you," he said. "I have a lot of questions."_

_Anastaise sighed, but there was a smile on her face. Standing and beckoning towards the castle's grand entrance, she chuckled, "Come inside, Blumiere. Let's get you back in bed, and then perhaps I'll tell you about my visit."_

_The young boy did not object. Together mother and son entered the elaborate castle and traveled the halls until they reached Blumiere's room. He hopped on the appropriately-sized bed, grinning as he burrowed under the covers and turned expectantly to his mother._

_Sitting on the edge of Blumiere's bed, Anastaise leaned over her son and, once again, brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "The humans are a fascinating species," she began, keeping her voice to a whisper. "Last night there was a festival-"_

" _What's that?" Blumiere interrupted. The word was foreign to him._

" _It's a wonderful party. The whole town is invited, and there's music and dancing beautiful lights." The young queen's eyes filled with renewed awe as she recounted the events of the previous evening._

_Blumiere's own eyes widened; he remembered seeing such lights while he was waiting for his mother's return. "Oh! So that's what I saw!"_

_Anastaise gave him a knowing look that told him he'd said too much._

" _I-I mean-"_

_She laughed, shaking her head slowly. "You were up all night, weren't you?" She took his silence as the answer to her question. "Blumiere, you mustn't be out at night, especially without telling anyone. If you had gotten hurt…"_

" _You went out without telling father," Blumiere murmured, so quietly he wasn't sure if his mother had even heard him. But she met his eyes with a cold hurt that told him she'd heard every word. A wave of guilt washed over him; he knew he shouldn't speak out against either of his parents, but he had to know. So he continued, "Why didn't you tell anyone? What if_ you _had gotten hurt? I was worried…" He winced, anticipating a sharp reply._

_But the response he received was not what he expected. "You are right, Blumiere, it was wrong of me to leave without telling your father. But he is… a bit closed-minded. He doesn't…" Struggling to find the correct words, Anastaise settled for sighing and turning away from her son._

" _I understand, mother." Blumiere sat up. "I think the humans sound like wonderful creatures- er… species." He recalled the word she used earlier. "Perhaps someday you'd take me to see them?"_

" _Perhaps," Anastaise whispered, without turning around._

_After a moment of silence, uneasiness took home in Blumiere's stomach. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling anxious and confused. "I didn't mean to make you sad…"_

_Queen Anastaise faced her son once more, and Blumiere's heart skipped a beat as he noticed there were tears in his mother's eyes. "My darling… I promise you, next time I leave I'll tell someone before I go. I'll be more careful."_

_Feeling tears stinging his own eyes, Blumiere leaned forward and embraced his mother, burying his face into the silky material covering her shoulder. He didn't understand why she was so upset. Was it because of what he'd said? "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," he pleaded. "I-I didn't mean to make you cry."_

" _No, no, Blumiere," Anastaise smoothed down her son's hair. "It was_ I _who made a mistake. Curiosity gets the best of all of us sometimes. But rather than let our mistakes burden us with guilt, we should learn from them."_

" _I'm sorry I stayed up all night," Blumiere said._

_Anastaise laughed. "And I'm sorry I expected you to follow a rule that I didn't follow myself. Thank you, Blumiere."_

_He knew not what he was being thanked for, but Blumiere felt better knowing he'd made his mother happy again. "You're welcome…I love you, mother."_

" _And I love you, Blumiere. Hundreds of thousands of years_ —"

* * *

Blumiere jolted awake and was filled with immediate agony.

His head was throbbing and the space behind his eyes ached so much he dared not open them. Momentary panic clenched his heart as he realized he could not move. His arms were pinned to his sides and his legs felt heavier than lead. After a few seconds of borderline-hysteria, he discovered that he could not move his limbs because there was a thick blanket draped over him. He was lying in a bed. Wriggling a bit, he tried to free himself but was at once overcome by a jolt of pain that flashed up his spine.

"Ugh...Uuugh…" he groaned, closing his eyes tighter in an attempt to free himself from the pain. His arms were shaking with the effort of trying to escape, and his whole body was tingling as if it were still asleep.

"You're awake at last?"

Blumiere froze. The voice—feminine, light, and smooth as honey—was not one he recognized. Struggling with confusion, he began to recall what had happened. He'd fallen from the cliff base and had landed somewhere next to the town border. He'd survived the fall, thank goodness, but where was he now? His train of thought was cut off as warm hands touched his forehead, pressing, feeling, before brushing his hair back behind his ears. Skin prickling at her touch, he cringed, unable to resist opening his eyes.

A young lady of about eighteen was hovering over him. Her shimmering, light blue eyes were wide with worry, and her brow furrowed as she studied him. Long, straight, caramel hair fell from her forehead and nearly touched his. She was a human, indeed; her skin was pale as a peach.

Taking in a shaky breath, he attempted once more to get out from underneath the blanket. He'd regained most of the strength in his limbs and was able to get himself into a sitting position, but before he could get any further he was coaxed back down by the woman. Grunting in protest, he asked, "Where...am I? Is this...a human's home?"

She pressed on his shoulders and hissed out a breath of air. "Shh… Don't wiggle like that. I found you at the cliff base. You took quite a fall."

With inquisitive eyes he searched her face for any sign of fear or wariness, but within the crystal pools of her eyes there was only a warm sense of concern. "You're a human, correct? I don't… repulse you? I _am_ of the Tribe of Darkness…"

As if thoroughly offended by that comment, she placed a hand on her chest and said, "Why would that matter? Anyone with a heart would not ignore an injured soul!"

Blumiere had to choke down a laugh. Her expression was comical; her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed together, but he didn't want to offend the kind woman by laughing at her.

She seemed to notice what he was hiding, as her face reddened. "Th-that's not funny! Why are you laughing?" she exclaimed.

He allowed a smile to show on his face. "Please, forgive me, milady. I meant no offense."

An odd look crossed her face. She ran her fingers through her hair, glanced off into the distance, and then locked eyes with Blumiere. They stared at each other for a moment, and then as if she couldn't hold it back anymore, a grin broke through her lips and she giggled. "Milady!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with a coy playfulness that made Blumiere blush. She covered her mouth as she laughed, saying, "My, you are quite the gentleman, aren't you?"

Blumiere furrowed his brow, growing ever hotter under her incredulous gaze. "W-Well, what would you rather me call you, then?" he stammered.

With a playful curtsy she announced, "Milord, my name is Timpani. Who do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

Giving in to her teasing, a smile crossed his lips. "I am Prince Blumiere of the Tribe of Darkness, fifth in line to the throne," he grinned, and if he weren't confined to the bed he was in, he'd have bowed in return.

"Blumiere, hmm?" Timpani sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to him. "What a wonderful name."

Out of the blue, a tiny spark of irritation appeared in Blumiere's mind. He did not think of his name as 'wonderful.' His father had named his four older brothers after powerful kings and wielders of the Tribe's past. But Basile wasn't present for the birth of his fifth son, and so Blumiere's mother had been the one to name him. "It means 'blue light,'" he grumbled. "I was born under the light of the full moon." Narrowing his eyes, Blumiere scoffed, "Ironic, isn't it? We're the Tribe of _Darkness_ , and my mother names me after the glow of the full moon on its brightest night."

Timpani smiled down at him. "I think it's poetic," she said in a quiet tone. "I'm sure your mother thinks so, too. Have you ever asked her why she chose that name for you?"

_I don't have that option, now…_ After mentioning his mother, Blumiere recalled that he'd been dreaming about her before he'd woken up. But it was more than a dream; the scene that had played out in his head was a _memory_. Sobered by the distinct picture of his mother's face in his mind's eye, Blumiere frowned. He should be grateful for the name his mother had given him, after all, it was a gift from her that he could never lose. "I regret not asking her while I still had the chance," he whispered, feeling his throat tighten with the strain of keeping his emotions at bay.

Something clicked within Timpani's mind, and at once her eyes widened. "Oh… Oh, Blumiere, I'm so sorry…I-I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Blumiere shook his head. "It's alright. You did not know, Timpani." But he said nothing more, his expression still downcast.

Timpani sighed, raising her thumb to stroke his cheek, and then to brush the hair out of his eyes (it always managed to fall back onto his face somehow). Her feathery touch once more made Blumiere's skin tingle; it helped to take his mind off of his mother. Peering up into her crystal blue eyes, the young man felt himself calmed.

"I never got to know my parents," Timpani murmured. "They were both killed in an attack on the town about eighteen years ago. I was an infant; I can't even recall their faces. But my aunt and uncle raised me, and they treated me as if I were their own daughter. I never knew the difference."

Blumiere recognized the battle that Timpani spoke of. It was the first and only battle of his father's reign. Humans had somehow learned of the previous king's death and had staged an attack on the weakened Tribe. But the humans suffered heavy losses and were forced to retreat. The battle was followed by several years of severe animosity between the two races, during which the Tribe of Darkness almost completely vanished from the lives of the humans.

Knowing his father had likely been the one who had murdered Timpani's parents, Blumiere couldn't help but be filled with renewed rage towards him, despite the fact the humans had initiated the attack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that regardless, Timpani. It's a shame there's such a horrible history between our tribes."

She sighed. "Yes, it's really quite unfortunate. You're nothing like the stories I've heard about your tribe. In fact, you're incredibly charming."

_I might have met you sooner if there wasn't a line that divided us._ Blumiere was humored by this thought. If only he'd snuck out sooner, as Aldrik had... That train of thought led to another, and suddenly Blumiere jolted upwards in the bed, resisting Timpani's attempt to hold him down.

"Blumiere, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"What time is it?" Blumiere blurted. "Has the sun risen yet?" He tried to exit the confines of the bedsheets but was stopped short when a white-hot flash of pain enveloped his right wrist. Crying out in pain, Blumiere raised the affected appendage in order to study it, surprised to find that a white cloth was wrapped around it.

Taking his injured wrist in her hand, Timpani slowly shook her head. "No, Blumiere, the sun hasn't risen yet." Guessing why the time of day had the man in such a panic, she continued, "But you aren't to go anywhere until you're healed, alright?"

He knew full well that he couldn't go home now. Not like this. His father would know that he had escaped when he saw his wrist. Looking up at the young woman hovering over him, he sighed, defeated.

"Timpani," Blumiere decided to start from the beginning, "what happened to me? How did I even _get_ here?"

His hair had been mussed during his attempt to escape, and so Timpani took it upon herself to brush it out of his eyes again, before sitting on the bed next to him. "I was walking through town last night and saw you lying at the base of the cliff. You were so close to the houses, I was worried that some other humans would find you. I decided to bring you back here."

"You _live_ here? How can you stand living in such a tiny place?" He glanced around at the modest room, decorated with a plain simplicity that was so different from the elaborate decor of the Tribe's castle. After he'd investigated every corner of the small bedroom he turned to Timpani once more—and was met by her challenging stare. Realizing his statement had been rude, he stammered, "Uh, I-I mean—"

"Not everyone can live in a castle, you know," Timpani stated matter-of-factly, though there was a spark of humor in her eyes, so Blumiere couldn't tell if she was truly angry or not.

"Please forgive me, Lady Timpani. That was… insensitive of me." He stared at the ground, cursing himself for speaking so carelessly.

She glanced sidelong at him, offering a half-smile. "You're forgiven." Then her serious charade faltered and she giggled, making Blumiere feel both relieved and embarrassed. "Oh, Blumiere, you're too funny."

He felt himself flush with heat, and was about to stutter a reply when Timpani continued, "And actually, to answer your original question, _this_ house belongs to no one. It's close to the forest, in the plains. I thought it would be easier to get you back home if you didn't need to worry about being spotted. My house is in town," Timpani went on, "but I spend a lot of time out here in the meadow, picking flowers. I own a small business selling bouquets in the Square," she added. "Anyway, I was on my way to pick some moonflowers when I stumbled upon you, lying unconscious at the cliff base. You were hurt, and I was so worried the others would find you; I _had_ to take care of you. I was already on my way here, so I decided this would be the perfect place to give you some shelter and patch up your wounds."

Blumiere averted his attention to his wrist. He hadn't noticed, but even through their whole conversation, she'd kept his hand held in hers. Meeting her gaze, he murmured, "You're very kind, Lady Timpani, but it's a shame you had to waste your bandages on me."

Timpani shook her head. "Oh no, no, not at all! I have plenty, and I hardly use them myself." She turned his hand over and began to inspect it, trailing her thumb over the thin fabric that was wrapped around his wrist. "Besides, it was bleeding quite a bit. I didn't want you to lose too much blood." Poking around the edges of the bandages, Timpani discovered that the second layer had begun to turn brown. Frowning, she said, "I'd better re-wrap it. It's leaking through already." Standing, she made to leave.

Blumiere pushed himself forward with his good hand. "No, Timpani, that's not necessary…" he trailed off as she left the room, paying no mind to his plea. Sighing, the blue-faced man sunk back down onto the bed. He wished there was a window in this room so he could see if the sun had come up yet.

Alone now, Blumiere was able to return to his thoughts. He was running out of time; the sun would rise soon, and there was no way he could go home with his wrist still bandaged. There was no lie Blumiere could come up with to explain that. To add to his problems, Blumiere had no idea how long his soul signature would be cloaked for, and if his father were to track him here… He shivered, abolishing that thought.

"Blumiere?"

Startled, he glanced up, unaware that Timpani had returned already.

"I've found the extra bandages—Is something wrong? You look upset… "

His gaze returned to the ground, and a sigh slipped past his lips. "I need to get home soon, Timpani… But I don't know if I'll be able to do it."

Reclaiming her spot at his side, Timpani took up his wrist and began to unwrap the bandages that bound it. "Is it that you can't get home or that you don't want to?"

"Well...both." He hadn't realized it until now, but he had been dreading his return home from the moment he exited the castle. And not only because he feared his father, but because he _liked_ it here. Even if there were humans who hated him, Timpani was proof that not all humans were like that. There might even be others, although he wouldn't mind if Timpani was the only kind human he ever met…

"Why don't you stay, then?" Timpani had removed the old bandages and was beginning to apply the new ones. "I mean… except for the obvious reasons. I'd be happy to stay with you here for a few more days, at least."

A deep longing tugged at his heartstrings. To stay here with Timpani, to never go back to the castle, to never face his father again… In this moment, there was nothing more he wanted. But there were so many things keeping him from doing so. "I'll...I'll stay one day more," he said at last.

_Bad idea,_ a voice within him warned, and he knew full well that it was right. But right now he felt free, and even if it meant he'd have to face his father's wrath a second time, Blumiere would never give up that freedom.

"You're sure?" Timpani seemed to be just as excited about his idea as he was, for she didn't wait for him to reply. "Then let's make this day worth it. Come outside with me, I'd like to show you the meadow."


	8. Points of View Chapter Two

_**Remember** _

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Two

"It's a shame it's so foggy this morning," Timpani sighed as she opened the front door of the cottage. "Although I suppose you won't have to worry about being spotted...You could go home now if you'd like, Blumiere; it'd be safer for you." There was reluctance in her voice; it was obvious she didn't really want him to go.

The dark prince stepped onto the prairie grass, still wet from the dew and the previous night's rain. "Don't even mention that Timpani. I might start to consider it." He laughed, though there was truth in his words. He'd had enough trouble making the decision to stay another day; he didn't want to start second guessing himself.

A smile brightened Timpani's face. "I won't say another word. I'm so glad you're staying, Blumiere." She tiptoed through the saturated blades of grass, scowling as the water soaked through her shoes and lapped at the hem of her white sundress.

"It must have rained a lot last night," Blumiere observed, chuckling sympathetically. "We're going to be soaked through by the time we get done with our walk. Not that _I_ mind," he added, "But it would be a shame if that beautiful dress you're wearing got dirty."

Timpani glanced down at herself, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. She understood what Blumiere was hinting at: white clothes didn't mix well with a wet atmosphere. "You know what," she sighed, "let's wait until the sun has dried up the rain and cleared the fog away. Then we'll take our walk."

Once back inside, Timpani sat down on a small tan couch and patted the seat next to her, inviting Blumiere to take that place. He accepted, taking a moment to brush himself off before leaning back on the soft piece of furniture.

"It shouldn't take long for the sun to dry the grass," Timpani said. "But until then, perhaps we should get to know each other. You're a prince, right? What is that like?"

Blinking, Blumiere took a deep breath. He'd never thought about that before. What _was_ it like? He was a prince… yes. But he didn't feel like a prince at all. "It… it isn't… Well, it's not as fun as you'd think it might be."

"Well, I never said I thought it would be _fun_. Then again, I really didn't think much of it at all, before I met you. You royals never come to visit us like you used to."

"Do you remember that?" Blumiere moved to the edge of his seat. "Have you ever met other members of my Tribe?"

Timpani shook her head. "Oh no, but I've heard stories of a time when your Tribe came to visit every once in awhile. Everyone else claims they were only spies plotting to destroy the town, but I think they were just curious. Just like you, Blumiere."

The runaway prince sighed softly. "So you wouldn't have seen my mother, then…"

It took Timpani a moment to understand what he'd said. "...Your mother came to town? When?"

"About ten years ago, she left the castle for the first time... It was usually at night when she would pay her visits to your town, so I guess you wouldn't have seen her. I...I always wanted to go with her, and she promised to take me with her one day... b-but three years later...she left and never came back…"

As Blumiere stared off into the distance, Timpani's eyes widened. She opened her mouth wide as if to say something but then decided against it, fearing the information she had would only hurt Blumiere more. Instead, she placed a hand on his back and slid closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder to comfort him. After a moment of suffocating silence, she whispered, "Why don't you tell me more about your mother, Blumiere."

Instantly he pulled away, gazing at her with glossy cerulean eyes. Rushing to explain herself, Timpani said, "Sometimes it helps to...talk about...people that you've lost… I-I mean, I won't force you to keep talking about this, but—"

"Her name was Anastaise." The glowing cerulean irises of Blumiere's eyes began to fade as he recalled his mother. "Like the rest of my Tribe, she had dark blue skin and black hair...very long, wavy hair. She was a wonderful woman, very childlike, but perhaps that's why I loved her so much." Blumiere leaned back onto the couch, allowing Timpani to put her hand on his shoulder. "Her curiosity surpassed even my own… heh… considering her curiosity is what got her killed, it seems I haven't learned much from her…"

"You can't help being curious, Blumiere. Things like that happen when you're forced to see only one side of the world your entire life. Especially when you know there are two."

Dry laughter broke from Blumiere's lips. "Mother loved your side of the world. And so do I, now that I've seen it."

"Well…shall we go see more of it, then?" Timpani asked, hoping to lighten Blumiere's mood. "The sun should have dried up the ground a little, and hopefully, the fog has cleared. We can continue our conversation as we walk."

"Yes, Timpani. I'd like that."

* * *

Wait here, okay?" Ronan motioned for Mimi to stay on the steps outside of his small home in the woods. "I've got teh go talk to Nanna. I'll be back soon, promise."

Mimi, who no longer wore the face and clothes of the older boy, nodded slowly as Ronan disappeared behind the oak door. Once he was gone, she sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Their search for a new 'Melody' had been unsuccessful, even though they'd stayed out most of the evening looking, but after dark she'd been too afraid to stay any longer. Most of the people had gone back to their houses by that time anyway. So they'd returned to Ronan's house and he'd managed to sneak her in past his Nanna (who was unobservant and deaf in one ear).

Though Ronan had been nice enough to share his bed with her, Mimi barely slept. She was so worried that she'd never be able to turn into a human again, and she was worried that Ronan's Nanna would find her, and worst of all, she was worried that the old man chasing her would finally catch her and bring her back to his house.

The scariest thing about the man was she couldn't remember who he was. He'd approached her one day while she was in town and told her she needed to 'come home with him.' She'd hidden from him in disguise as 'Melody,' but that didn't work for long, and eventually the man found her again. He'd then tried to convince her to change into something else; 'anything but a human,' he'd said. Thankfully, that was around the same time she'd met Ronan, and he was able to provide shelter and protection for her while she ran away from the man. She'd also had the help of the Nice Lady, who'd let her stay in the meadow house.

But now she had no disguise, except for the 'Ronan' facade. And she didn't think that would work for very long.

The house's front door opened and Ronan appeared. "Nanna says I can go inteh town for a while," he announced. "She told me not teh be out long, though, so we should try an' find yeh a new girl, quick."

Mimi stood and nodded. "Okay. Where should we go first?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there! C'mon! Race yeh teh the bridge!" Ronan took off towards the bridge that led over the river.

Mimi jumped to her feet, giggling, "Hey! No fair!"

They sprinted across the grassy forest floor, weaving around trees and shrubs until they reached the wooden bridge. Ronan got there first, but Mimi wasn't far behind.

"I woulda beat you if you hadn't had a head start!" Mimi insisted, laughing in short, out-of-breath gasps.

Ronan doubled over, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Yeh… Yeh're probably right, Mimi," he smiled, before straightening up again. "Oh, 'ey—" he gestured at her clothing. "Yeh're still green."

"Oh, yeah! We're twins now!" A moment and a puff of purple smoke later, Mimi had transformed into 'Mio,' Ronan's twin. With the disguise in place, the look-alikes departed for town.

The town square was bustling with people moving to and from the different stores and outdoor vendors. There were several groups of children playing in the warm August sunlight, but most of them were either older than Mimi or much younger.

Ronan inched closer to her. "I don' see any good ones. An'... is it me or is there less people than usual?"

Mimi shrugged, but after looking around, she found that Ronan was right. There were quite a few people milling about, but usually the town square was so packed with shoppers that you couldn't see through to the other side. "Yeah, I think you're right, Ronan. Where is everybody?"

After a bit of wandering, they found their answer. On the other side of the square, near the treeline, a large group of people stood. They were all dressed in black, which both Ronan and Mimi found a bit puzzling, and they all seemed to be standing in a circle around something. As the identical children approached the gathering, they were finally able to see the object in the middle of the circle.

A casket.

Inside of the obsidian box lay a young girl with blonde hair, pale skin, and closed eyes. She wore a white, embroidered sundress that seemed to glow in contrast to the dark clothes of those around her. Her petite hands were folded across her stomach, and laced in between her fingers was a scarlet ribbon.

Ronan and Mimi exchanged a horrified glance. They both recognized the girl in the casket.

"Mimi… That's _you…_ "

* * *

Mother loved to garden. It was her favorite pastime. She would have loved all of these beautiful flowers… Actually, I wonder if she ever saw them during her visits."

"I'm sure she did if she's as curious as you say," Timpani laughed, gazing up into the bright morning sky.

They were sitting back to back on top of a hill behind Timpani's house, under the shade of a tall oak tree. It was the only tree this far out in the meadow, and Blumiere was thankful for the relief it provided from the sun, which had already grown hot, even this early in the morning.

Surrounding the tree were flowers of every shape and color, leaning to and fro in the gentle breeze. It was like a paradise, Blumiere thought, a paradise that his mother would have loved very much.

"I'd like to believe she spent a lot of time up here," he whispered, finding that the words filled him with a pleasant nostalgic feeling rather than melancholy. Perhaps Timpani was right: talking about his mother was the best way to overcome the grief he felt. If only his father knew that…

"Maybe some of the flowers in her garden came from this hill," Timpani suggested. "Think, you might have been seeing flowers from this place your whole life."

A light chuckle bubbled from Blumiere's mouth. "I wouldn't doubt it." He drew a deep breath of the fragrant air and stretched his neck so he could look at the sky, letting his head touch Timpani's for a moment.

 _This is perfect,_ Blumiere realized. _It's odd that I've found perfection here, with a human… With_ Timpani. _Although… I suppose this is what I've been seeking all along._

"It's… It's strange," he continued to laugh, struggling to attach words to his thoughts. "I never imagined… Well, nevermind. Timpani, I have a question to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Why is it that… Well, you see, Timpani, when I first visited the town, everyone there despised me. They were terrified of me, and they threw insults and rocks at me. And yet here we are, a human and a dark mage, sitting beneath a tree in the middle of a meadow, thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Why are you so different? You know what I am, so why are you not afraid?"

"You ask why I am not afraid of you? Blumiere, you've done nothing to hurt me. You've been incredibly kind to me. I have no reason to fear you."

"I did nothing to harm _them_ , either," he sighed. "I just wanted to see your side of the world."

"Yes, but Blumiere, you crossed the boundary into the heart of the town and expected people to accept you with open arms… I'm not saying you did anything wrong, Blumiere, but frankly, if you had approached me in a similar manner, I would have been a bit frightened myself." Timpani stood up and stepped closer to the trunk of the tall oak tree. She put her pale hand on the bark and waited for a moment, as if lost in thought.

"Blumiere, when I found you last night, I admit I hesitated for a moment before taking you out here. For all I knew, you could have killed me as soon as you woke up. But… I couldn't just leave you there, Blumiere. I realized that if it were a human lying there, I would have taken them in without a second thought. I knew I couldn't leave you there just because of something silly like the color of your skin. Tell me, would you have done the same?"

Blumiere imagined finding Timpani on top of the cliff, injured. He knew the first thing he'd do would be to make sure his father didn't see her…

"Yes, Timpani. You're right, I would have done the same thing."

"I think," Timpani continued, brushing a strand of caramel hair behind her ear, "that every person has the ability to think like you and I. They only need to look at the situation from a different point of view." She turned around and knelt down in front of Blumiere, who was still sitting in the grass. "What most people don't realize is, though we may be different in appearance," she placed her index finger on the black silk that covered his collarbone, "we're all the same on the inside. It's the character of the heart, not the character of the body, that truly matters."

Blumiere peered up into Timpani's crystal blue eyes and smiled. Then he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Timpani in order to help her up. "It's not so strange after all," he grinned. "I just needed to see things from a different point of view, as you put it. You're the first person I've met who sees things like that. Well, except for…"

_Ronan and Mimi._

"Blast!" Blumiere cried out. "How could I have forgotten the reason I came out here in the first place?"

Startled, Timpani put a hand on his arm. "What? What is it, Blumiere?"

Brushing a hand through his night-sky hair, Blumiere turned worried cerulean eyes on her. "Timpani, I never mentioned this before, but I did actually meet someone on my first visit to the town."

"Oh?" Timpani quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, but he wasn't… Well, he was a young boy by the name of Ronan, and he and I had quite an adventure together…" He broke through his story with a chuckle. "Anyway—and I didn't mention this before either—I visited a second time and met his young friend, a girl named Melody, o-or Mimi, depending on—"

"You met _Mimi_?" Timpani cut in, "You mean the little girl with green skin?"

"You know of her?"

"She showed up at the meadow house once while I was picking flowers. Sometimes I stay there overnight with her when she has nowhere else to sleep… I feel bad for her, the poor girl… I haven't a clue if she has any home of her own, but she certainly has no memory of it if she does..."

Blumiere blinked a few times, slowly beginning to piece things together. "Of course! I must not have recognized your house because of the fog this morning. You're the Nice Lady!" He held back laughter, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

Timpani remained somber. "Yes, that's what Mimi calls me… But Blumiere, I haven't seen her in almost week, and you've brought up something about her just now… Did something happen to her?"

"She's lost the ability to change into a human, so she can't go into town, and she mentioned something about a man… The last time I saw her she was still with Ronan, so perhaps we should check at his house?" He offered.

Timpani was already descending the hill. "Yes, good idea. We must make sure Mimi is in a safe place." Her brow was creased with worry, and as Blumiere caught up to her, he sensed that she knew something more about the situation than he did.

"Timpani…?"

He didn't have to say anything more. "A friend of mine lost her only child three days ago to a terrible sickness. They don't know what caused it, but… I do know that the little girl who died looked exactly like Mimi's human form. She would never tell me anything about it when I asked, but I always assumed that she, in a way, copied the girl's exact appearance to use for her own. And now that Mimi can't do that anymore… at the same time of the young girl's death… Well, I can't help but assume they're related somehow."

By now they'd neared the back of the meadow house. "So, Mimi cannot use her ability on the deceased," Blumiere concluded, rounding the corner of the house.

Nodding, Timpani replied, "That's what I'm led to believe. Oh, I'm so worried for her, Blumiere." She opened the front door and stopped in the doorway, saying, "I need to grab some things. I'll only be a moment." Without another word she vanished, leaving Blumiere outside alone.

He glanced down at himself, realizing how ragged and dirty he looked. Shifting his cape on his shoulders, he spotted a tear in the fabric.

"...blast, Father's going to see that…"

He unclasped it and folded it up. _Perhaps Timpani could teach me how to sew it up,_ he mused. As he turned to look inside the cottage, he was suddenly aware that someone had used teleportation to move to a different location. A strong signature was being emitted, one that was very familiar. _Aldrik!_ He froze, scanning the distant treeline and, sure enough, a dark figure was walking through the brush, causing branches and leaves to sway to and fro.

His heart skipped a beat as the man emerged. Their eyes met, and Blumiere knew there was no point in trying to hide from him now. Spinning on his heel, he entered the cottage and nearly ran into Timpani.

"Oh! Timpani, I must go, I'm terribly sorry."

"What? Blumiere, why? Has something happened?" Timpani brushed back her hair, which was now tied up in a tight bun and held together with a ribbon that reflected every color of the rainbow. She had also added to her attire a gray cloak with an embroidered pattern.

"My Uncle. He's here, and I'm sure he wants to bring me h-home…" he stuttered, overcome by nervousness. _Father knows… He knows, surely…_

"But what of the children?"

"You'll have to look alone. I'm so sorry, Timpani."

Timpani took his hand and squeezed it gently. "I understand, Blumiere. But, please, you must come back. I must see you again soon."

"I will. I will be back… Tonight. Before the sun sets. We'll meet beneath the tree, and you can tell me what you've found."

She met his cerulean gaze and hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek. "Promise?"

Blumiere's heart beat faster, and for a few seconds he could do nothing more than stare into Timpani's pleading eyes.

"I promise," he whispered, returning the kiss. Then he turned towards the trees and broke into a run, not wanting to keep Aldrik waiting any longer.

His uncle was standing in the shadow of a tree, stern-faced. "Lord Blumiere, it is almost noon. What has taken you so long? And did you find Sha'i?"

Blumiere's mind whirled as he realized he'd forgotten about his mysterious aunt. "U-uh, well, I..."

Luckily, Blumiere didn't have to come up with an excuse, for Aldrik pressed on, "Actually, tell me about that later. We need to hurry home now, Blumiere. Your father is waiting for you."


	9. Points of View Chapter Three

_**Remember** _

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Three

"I can't believe it," Mimi whimpered for the umpteenth time, taking a seat on the steps outside Ronan's house. "She's dead… Melody is dead…"

Ronan cleared his throat and scratched at his neck. He was devoted to Mimi, and always did his best to cheer her up and help her in any way he could. But in this situation, there was absolutely nothing he could do. He could be as loyal or devoted or cheerful as possible, but Mimi's situation required more than that. He couldn't bring a girl back from the grave.

"It's okay, Mimi," was his automatic reply, though they both recognized the statement as a lie. Things were not okay, as far as they were concerned.

Sighing, Mimi half-closed her eyes and rested her head on her folded knees. She remained silent, staring at some invisible object in the trees.

Movement in the distance caused her to sit up straight once again, and as she recognized the shape as a human, she tugged on her friend's sleeve, saying, "O'Chunks, _look._ "

Following her gaze, the older boy gasped. "Hey, ah think that's—"

"Mimi, Ronan!" Lady Timpani called as she approached the children, out of breath from the hastiness of her journey. "Thank goodness! You're both here."

Mimi leaped from the stairs and bounded across the clearing, launching herself into Timpani's arms. "You're here!" She rejoiced, "You're finally here!"

Timpani smiled and hugged the girl to her chest. "Yes, Mimi, I'm here. I'm so glad you're safe. And you, too, Ronan," she added with a nod to the orange-haired boy.

"Miss Lady," Ronan started, stepping away from the wooden stairs. "'Ave yeh come teh 'elp us?"

Like Blumiere, Timpani had become accustomed to the nicknames the children had come up with for her. From Ronan, it was 'Miss Lady,' and from Mimi, 'Nice Lady.' Either one called her just 'Lady' from time to time, and although at first Timpani had insisted they call her by her name, she'd grown used to it.

"I'm afraid I only know half of the story," Timpani released Mimi and knelt down so she was eye-level with both children. "Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

Ronan and Mimi began to tell the story simultaneously.

"I-I couldn't change anymore…"

"And Mimi n' Blue came to my 'ouse and I saw her…"

"I'm stuck green now…"

"A-an' then we went into town…"

"...people in black…"

"...a funeral, I think…"

"Sh-she's dead, now!"

Mimi burst into tears. Timpani held back a sigh; she'd understood next to nothing. She clasped Mimi's shoulder and spoke in a soft, calm voice, "Shh, it's alright. We'll figure something out." Taking what she already knew as well as the few snippets she'd gained from Mimi and Ronan, Timpani pieced together what had happened. "Mimi," she met the girl's ruby gaze, "from what I understand, the reason you can't turn into a human is because this young girl who passed away, Melody, was the…" she struggled to find the right word. "... _model_...for your human form. So this ability to turn into anyone you can see only extends to those who are alive. Is that correct?"

Mimi nodded, sniffling.

"Were you aware of this?"

She shook her head.

Timpani stood. "Alright. So there are certain things you _don't_ know about this ability you possess. I would suggest we learn as much about it as possible so this kind of thing doesn't happen again, but first, we need to deal with the situation at hand."

Both children were looking up at Timpani with wide eyes. They fully trusted the woman to have the answer to their problems, but in truth, Timpani hadn't completely formulated a plan yet. She needed some time to think.

"What 're we goin' teh do?" Ronan spoke up, standing on his tiptoes for a moment before standing straight again. "Yeh've got a plan, right?"

Timpani ran a hand through her hair, suddenly getting an idea. "Yes, actually. But it'll have to wait until tonight."

"The Summer Festival is tonight!" Ronan piped up. "We can find Mimi a girl then!"

"Exactly," Timpani nodded, clasping her hands together. And someone else is coming tonight. You two know Blumiere, right?"

Ronan and Mimi exchanged an excited glanced and exclaimed simultaneously, "Blue!"

Timpani couldn't hold back a chuckle. It seemed the children had an appropriate nickname for the blue-faced man. "Yes, he's coming back tonight. Why don't we wait until he gets here, and then we'll work out how to solve this."

"He's okay?" Mimi piped up, her eyes filled with worry." Last time we saw him he was stole away by another blue-face!"

"He what?" Timpani's brow furrowed.

"I think it was 'is dad," Ronan added. "'Is dad came and took 'im 'ome. 'E looked real mad, too."

A dreadful feeling made Timpani's stomach churn. Blumiere hadn't mentioned much about his father, but given this information, she guessed Blumiere hadn't ended up at the bottom of the cliff because he'd been taking a walk.

 _Did he run away…?_ She couldn't help but wonder, and she began to worry that he might not make it tonight. _Or perhaps he'll get back sooner than he intended…?_

"I'd better go back and wait for him," She spoke her thoughts.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Mimi stared at the grass around her bare feet. Timpani's words had caused her to be concerned for Blumiere's wellbeing.

"He'll be fine, don't worry," Timpani assured, although the assurance was just as much for herself as it was for Mimi. "Will you two be alright with staying here until he gets back?" She wanted to ask Blumiere about a few things, and she didn't know if he'd be completely willing if the children were there.

Mimi was about to protest but Ronan, older and wiser, understood what Timpani was getting at. "Yeh, sure, Mimi an' I can stay 'ere. Let's play a game, Mimi!"

The green-skinned girl was easily swayed, and soon the two had begun a game of tag.

"I'll see you soon," Timpani waved, heading back the way she came. Blumiere was on her mind the entire walk to the top of the hill on the meadow, and as she sat to wait for the man's return, she started plotting ways to save both the children _and_ Blumiere.

* * *

Prior to his first visit to the humans' town, Blumiere rarely fought with his father. He wasn't known to fight with anyone, and would much rather solve his problems peacefully instead of getting upset and starting a verbal war with the other person. His father, on the other hand, was quick to give into his temper and wouldn't hesitate to verbally berate or abuse another family member. Blumiere recalled many times when his older brothers had challenged his father's opinions or disobeyed him. And his brothers didn't hold their tongues either. During those fights, Blumiere would seek refuge with his mother. And, later on, at her grave.

But this time, his father was neither forceful nor peaceful, but silent. The tension in the air was palpable, and as Blumiere stared at his feet dangling over the edge of his bed, he struggled to keep his breathing regular and his worry at bay.

King Basile was sitting across from his son in a wooden desk chair, observing him with probing eyes. He hadn't said a word since Blumiere had arrived home, and he had been sitting there for nearly an hour already.

The noise of his pounding heart was the only sound Blumiere could hear, and that was hardly any consolation for him. _Why isn't he saying anything?_ He wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time. _Is he waiting for me to speak first? But what should I say?_ He stole a glance at his father and, upon meeting his gaze, redirected it to the floor, feeling his stomach contract in fear.

"I want you to tell me everything that happened."

When at last his father spoke, Blumiere nearly had a heart attack. It took him a moment to process what his father had asked. "Everything…?" he dared to look at him again. "Starting from where?"

"From the moment you ran away last night." Blumiere winced at the terminology his father had used. 'Ran away' suggested he'd done something criminal; intending to escape and never come back.

And starting from this point meant he'd have to explain _how_ he escaped. He didn't want to rat out his uncle, but he also knew he couldn't lie to his father. And besides, Blumiere had a feeling his father knew Aldrik had helped him. _He's likely testing me to see if I'll tell the truth right away._

He was trapped. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he prepared to tell the truth, but only what was absolutely necessary. "I...left of my own accord, but with the help of Aldrik."

King Basile was unfazed, which confirmed Blumiere's earlier speculations. "How did he help you?"

"He cloaked my soul signature so I could teleport undetected."

"And _why_ did he help you?"

Blumiere recognized a change in the tone of his father's voice; he was transitioning from confirming the information he already knew to interrogating for information he had yet to receive. Blumiere could do a bit of fabricating, now. "He wanted me to look for someone."

" _Who?_ "

"I-I, uh, a friend of mother's," Blumiere's heart pounded. It was a terrible substitute for the true answer, but there was no way he was going to reveal to his father that Aldrik had a human wife. Besides, for all Blumiere knew, Sha'i might have known his mother.

Basile didn't like that answer either, for he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at his son. "Do you actually believe your mother had _friends?_ "

His harsh words surprised Blumiere. Of course his mother had had friends! She'd told him so many stories of the wonderful things she'd seen, and the intriguing traditions of the humans… But now that Blumiere thought about it… Had she ever mentioned any friends? "I-I guessed I assumed…"

"Aldrik must have lied to you. This person he's sending you after would not have known Anastaise." Basile took on the somber, flat tone with which he spoke every time he mentioned Queen Anastaise.

"But…" Blumiere hesitated, knowing it was not his place to ask questions at this moment. But he had to know. "Mother spent so much time with the humans. There's no way she couldn't have considered any of them _friends_." He thought of the humans he'd met so far. All of the ones who didn't throw rocks at him had become the first friends he'd ever had.

Basile didn't seem pleased that his interrogation was veering off track, but he answered Blumiere's question with vigor. "Your naivety has made you a fool, my son."

Blumiere winced.

"Do you actually think your mother interacted with any of the humans she saw?" When Blumiere didn't answer, he continued, "Anastaise hid in the shadows. Why do you think she only went at night? She stayed hidden and watched the humans from a distance, and the day they found her, they _killed her!_ " By now King Basile's voice had raised several decibels.

Blumiere's stomach churned. He clutched the sheets of his bed beneath his hands, trying to pretend he didn't notice the tortured breaking of his father's voice. He should have known not to bring up mother.

But that wasn't the only reason he was feeling nauseous. If what his father said was true… That would explain why his mother never told him full stories of her visits into town...why she only promised to take him with her when he was older… "You...You're sure?" Blumiere was still in disbelief.

King Basile stood up, towering over Blumiere and glowering at him. "Your mother lays cold in her grave outside. What more evidence do you need?!" With that, Basile headed for the door. "You have told me all I need to know, Blumiere. I will see you again in the morning. And if you show up missing, there will be _severe_ consequences." The door slammed behind him.

Stunned and alone, Blumiere sat frozen in time. His father's final words repeated relentlessly in his mind.

_What more evidence do you need?!_

The humans had murdered Queen Anastaise as soon as they'd seen her. Seven years later, they could have killed her son, too.

But they hadn't. Maybe it was because he'd left soon enough to escape, or maybe because they were too afraid of him to act right away. Whatever the reason, Blumiere was lucky to be alive. The truth of what his father had been saying all along hit him at last.

But as much as this truth scared him, he knew he couldn't stay away. At least, not from Ronan and Mimi and Timpani. He had to go back, and he'd promised Timpani it would be _tonight_.

But how in the worlds was he going to leave this time? There was no way his father was going to let Aldrik back in here, and his signature was no longer cloaked, or else his uncle wouldn't have found him this morning.

And if he managed to escape and wasn't back in the morning? His father had threatened something terrible if that happened.

Open-ended threats were the worst kind, Blumiere mused.

* * *

It was getting late. Blumiere stood before his window, longing in his cerulean gaze as he stared in the direction of Timpani's home. From here he could not see the plains or the lone tree that sat upon the hill, but he could picture the vivid colors of the flowers so clearly, he was sure he'd be able to teleport directly there.

But of course, that was impossible now. Unless he could learn to cloak his own signature, there was no way he'd be able to make it undetected.

"Aha ha ha ha!"

Blumiere jumped, spinning around and crying out in horror and confusion.

...or, he _would_ have, were it not for the sudden pressure over his mouth, as if someone were clamping their hand there in order to keep him quiet. But there was no such person, or _anything,_ as far as Blumiere could see.

"You weren't planning on jumping, were you? Aha. What a terrible way to go."

He tried to speak but could not, so he shook his head, eyebrows arched in fright.

As his mouth was freed, a figure materialized before Blumiere's eyes. A young boy dressed in a purple and beige poncho and black pants, gloves and pointed shoes appeared. His face was covered in a mask that was split black and white down the middle, bearing a perpetual grin and upturned eyes. A jester's hat similar to his poncho sat upon his head so that no part of his hair could be seen. In fact, there was not an inch of his body that was not covered by some sort of clothing. But what caught Blumiere's eye, more so than the bizarre outfit the child was wearing, was that he was hovering about two feet off the ground.

"Good, good!" the boy chirped, his voice muffled by the mask. He moved his right hand, touching first his mouth and then the open palm of his left hand. "It would be a shame if you died before I had the chance to introduce myself."

Blumiere blinked, slightly disgusted. He waited for the alluded 'introduction.'

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now, _cousin._ "

Silence overcame the room as Blumiere processed what the boy had said. _Cousin…? So then… He must be…_ "You're Aldrik's son," he uttered. _That would explain the levitation. He must have inherited Aldrik's magical abilities._ Blumiere wondered how Aldrik's magic could have been stronger and more hereditary than Basile's, the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus himself, but he didn't think he could get an answer to that at the moment.

"That I am," the boy said, tearing Blumiere from his thoughts, "I am Aldrik's first and only son: the Master of Dimensions and Pleaser of Crowds!" He spun mid-air and bowed. "I am… Dimentio!"

 _He certainly didn't inherit Aldrik's dry personality,_ Blumiere thought. "That's, er… quite the title, Dimentio." The name felt odd on his tongue. "I'm Blumiere, unless… Unless you already knew that." He furrowed his brow, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

"I did know that, and yes, I am aware of the splendor of my title. It is one I wear with pride."

Blumiere was about to ask where he acquired such a title, but thought better of it.

"Anyway, dear cousin," Dimentio pressed on, "I have been sent here by my father to aid you in your escape. You see, father desperately wants to find my mother, or, at least, receive confirmation of death. She disappeared about a year after my birth and was never seen again, aha ha." He paused to change his position, so now he was 'laying' on his stomach, supported by nothing but air. "Father can't leave the castle, and _I_ don't exist, aha. So that leaves _you._ " Dimentio jabbed a finger towards Blumiere.

The older man nodded slowly, growing more uneasy by the moment. There was something _not right_ about the boy; he seemed to be around seven or eight years old, and yet he spoke with the fluidity and intelligence of someone Blumiere's age, or older. That, combined with the perpetual smile on the mask he wore and the fact that he resembled a living jester's costume rather than a boy, gave him an eerie aura that made Blumiere feel disturbed and uncomfortable.

"Father already aided you in escaping once," Dimentio continued, hovering a bit closer to Blumiere. "He took your signature, correct?"

"Yes," Blumiere's voice wavered.

"Aha ha ha. Then I'm sure you know what to do."

Blumiere did know, and he was not thrilled by the idea of doing it again. "You wouldn't happen to know a different method, would you?"

Dimentio was silent for a moment, then burst into semi-manic laughter. "Aha ha ha ha! A different method? Believe me, dear cousin, if there was another way, I would have found out by now."

Taking a few steps backwards, Blumiere swallowed, his eyes growing wide.

"I'm sure you've noticed by now that I have no soul signature of my own."

Blumiere hadn't thought to check, but now that he'd mentioned it, he realized the boy was telling the truth. _I never felt him teleport into the room, either._ He gave a quick nod.

"Of course I don't. Because I don't exist, remember? Aha ha. So think about this: every morning, at exactly seven o'clock, father cloaks my signature. It must be done at exactly the right moment, for if you cloak a signature that is already cloaked…" he trailed off and snickered, before getting back on track. "Then, every evening, at exactly seven o'clock, my signature is cloaked again. Twice a day, it must be cloaked, for I must not be known to exist. Every day since I was born I've endured this pain. The burning sensation, like thousands of fire ants crawling across my skin. The cold, paralyzing ice that crawls through my blood. Aha ha ha ha ha. Such a thing should kill a child. But here I am. Lucky me. Aha."

Blumiere could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. "So that… That would make sense, yes…" He didn't know what else to say. At this point, he just wanted to leave and find Timpani.

"Don't worry, it won't be so bad. I promise. You'll get used to it." Blumiere swore he heard mocking in his tone, and for that reason he still did not give up his hands.

The motley-clad boy inched closer. "Come now, cousin. This is the only way. You want to go back, don't you? And see that woman again…"

"Wha-?!" Blumiere bit back an exclamation, wary of the possibility that someone outside might hear him. "How did you…?"

"Father might have mentioned a woman he saw you talking to," Dimentio commented offhandedly. "I'm sure you want to see her again."

Blumiere nodded, unsure of how to reply to that.

"Of course. Just be careful if you decide to have a little fun. Unexpected.. _.mistakes_ might happen. Like me. Aha ha ha ha."

"Excuse me?" Blumiere furrowed his brow, disgusted that Dimentio would even suggest such a thing. _I would never! Timpani and I aren't even- Well, she might have kissed me, but… That doesn't mean…!_ He knew he was blushing, so he covered his cheeks with his hands.

Dimentio continued to laugh. "Be careful, Blumiere," he repeated, grabbing for his hands. Blumiere didn't resist, instead taking a deep breath in attempt to prepare for the pain he knew was coming.

Somehow, he managed to hold back his cries of agony as the magic entered his bloodstream. Dimentio did not say a word; he watched as Blumiere clenched his teeth and took in labored breaths through his nose.

"Good to go!" The masked boy chirped, twirling midair.

Blumiere closed his eyes, trying to focus on the meadow with the tree and the flowers, and Timpani's smiling face…

"Oh, and one more thing."

"... _What?_ "

"Don't forget to look for my mother. I'll give you a hint. She's a human. Aha."

Dimentio's laughter faded away as Blumiere entered void-space.


	10. Points of View Chapter Four

_**Remember** _

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Four

"...You're late. Did something happen?"

"Yes, my father caught me. Sneaking out of the castle wasn't easy after that."

"I was worried you wouldn't come…"

Timpani stood in front of Blumiere on top of the meadow hill. The sun was already below the horizon, though the sky was still bright. Her blue eyes sparked with a nervous sort of curiosity.

"Don't worry about me, Timpani," Blumiere urged.

"But I do," she sighed, wringing her hands together. "You haven't told me much about your father, Blumiere, but… it seems you fear him. And tonight- he _caught_ you? What does that mean, Blumiere? That you were running away? That you have to escape without him knowing?"

Blumiere was jolted by the intensity of her words. "Well, it's.."

"I'm glad you came back, Blumiere. I'm just worried, is all."

"I'm sorry."

Timpani's smile was a melancholic one. "I'm sorry you have to put so much at risk by meeting me."

The blue-faced man sat on the chilled grass and beckoned for Timpani to sit beside him. "My father is a strict man," he began, "but I know it's fear that fuels his actions. When I lost my mother, he changed. No longer were you humans, but _monsters,_ monsters that could attack and take away his family at any moment. He became afraid of you, and he still is. I don't want him to worry about me, which is why I must leave without his permission."

Timpani leaned in closer until she was resting her head on his shoulder. "Does he know you've gone out before?"

He swallowed and nodded.

"Was he upset when he found out?"

"That doesn't matter now, Timpani. I'm here, and that's all that I care about."

"I'm glad of that. Just-"

"I'll be careful, I promise."

Timpani giggled and turned her head so she could look at Blumiere. "Good. But if it gets too dangerous for you to come back… well, wait until it's not dangerous. We must keep meeting!" She offered him a silly grin and he laughed.

"Nothing could stop me from seeing you…"

He leaned his head until it was resting on top of her head. They sat in blissful silence for a few moments.

 _I truly enjoy her company,_ Blumiere thought. _I've never been happier._

"Look at the sunset, Blumiere," Timpani whispered in awe, breaking the silence. The sun's rays were dying down, but in its wake, it left a rainbow of beams that melted across the sky. Blumiere followed them across the horizon.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

"And look at how they blend together over there," Timpani pointed to a spot on the horizon, almost opposite the sun. "That pattern is even prettier. I don't think I've ever noticed that before."

In the direction Timpani indicated, the colors were a bit different from the spectrum of rays where the sun was setting. On the horizon line was a deep navy blue, followed by a thin line of magenta and then a subdued peach. It gradually grew lighter, fading into white, which was followed by another layer of blue that stretched to the top of the sky.

"I've never taken notice of the colors in the sky before," Blumiere mused. "When the sun sets, they're always changing. Even now, that pattern you pointed out is almost completely blue."

"Blink and you'd miss it," Timpani grinned.

"Let's look for it every night. Maybe we can use those colors to chose when to meet instead of the sunset."

"Clever," Timpani nodded. "If your father begins to think that you're leaving routinely, he'd never suspect it would be at a time like that. And it's right after sunset, too, so it wouldn't be too much longer to wait."

"So it's settled then? Every night, when the sunset creates that pattern across the meadow, we'll meet."

"Every night?"

Blumiere hesitated. What if he couldn't get out? Or what if his father caught him, and did something worse to him than confining him to his room? "Well, it's just like you said: blink and you'd miss it. If the colors pass and I've not appeared yet, assume I won't be coming at all. I won't come before or after."

Timpani turned her head so she could look at him and half-smiled.

"...I'll try and get out as often as possible."

"I'm glad."

They shared a laugh and fell silent again. Blumiere closed his eyes, enjoying the peaceful company of the blue-eyed woman. Timpani, on the other hand, continued to watch Blumiere, unable to contain a smile. Their hands were centimeters apart, and, giving in to an inexplicable urge, Timpani moved hers over and placed it on top of Blumiere's.

"Mm?" The Tribesman opened his eyes and blinked at her. "Yes?"

"Oh. Nothing." Timpani did not move her hand.

Heart fluttering, Blumiere cleared his throat and closed his eyes again. The touch of Timpani's hand awoke something inside of him, a pulsating warmth that made him feel something that was best described as _wobbly_. He knew he could sit like this with her for eternity.

_She's perfect._

* * *

From behind a cloak of invisibility, Dimentio watched the unusual couple. They leaned closely together, hands intertwined, a match made by the stars themselves. _Like my own parents, at one point,_ _perhaps,_ he mused. _Before they were plagued with a child._

Hovering closer, he felt the urge to shove them, or scream, or do something to disturb their peace. But he had a job to do, and that job required him to remain unseen.

 _He hasn't said a word about mother yet. He hasn't said much of anything at all._ Dimentio doubted his cousin would ever touch on the matter. And he didn't want to stay any longer; they were getting too close. Backing away to a safe distance, Dimentio teleported away, leaving behind a faint wave of distortion.

Aldrik was waiting for him in the large room they shared. Or rather, the room that belonged to Aldrik and that Dimentio occasionally occupied. Octagonal in shape, the bedroom held a king-sized bed, a grand chest of drawers and wardrobe, both of dark stained wood. There was also a bookshelf and a desk pushed to one of the eight sides. All of this was plenty for them to share, but Dimentio was not allowed in it very often, for fear of being discovered. He ate his meals in the darkness of the wardrobe and slept on the castle's roof. His invisibility was helpful at all other times, but he could not make other objects invisible, and though his body was transparent, it was still tangible.

It was late now, and unlikely that anyone would be entering the room unprovoked, so Dimentio made himself known by retracting his invisibility and whispering, "Father, I—"

Aldrik shook his head and held a finger to his lips, then, with both palms facing downward, he moved his hands to his sides in a sweeping movement.

" _Silence."_

Dimentio made several signs of his own. " _It's late. What's wrong?"_

" _The King could be listening."_

The motley-clad boy reached out for his uncle's signature. " _He's not here now."_

" _We can't risk it. Where is he?"_

" _With the girl."_

Aldrik's face fell. " _He's not going to look for your mother."_

Dimentio shook his head. " _He's just like you."_

The magician narrowed his eyes at his son and raised a hand to the side of his head. " _Leave me."_

Dimentio teleported away. He wouldn't see his father again until seven o'clock the next morning when his existence would be cloaked once more.

* * *

"We should find Ronan and Mimi before dark."

"Oh!" Blumiere pulled away from Timpani and stood up. "Of course! I meant to ask, what did you find out about Mimi?"

"It's as I suspected," Timpani took Blumiere's hand and let him help her to her feet. "Mimi cannot shapeshift into someone who is dead."

"And the girl she was using as her disguise died recently, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you recall how she died?"

Timpani started for the direction of Ronan's house. "I believe it was a sickness. It started small and got worse and worse over time. No one could find a cure."

"Did anyone else contract the sickness?"

"Not that I know of."

Blumiere put a hand to his chin. "And Mimi wasn't affected by the sickness."

"There are many things about her ability that she does not understand. I wish there was a way we could perform some tests, but I don't have much time. I work during the day, and at night…" She grinned at Blumiere.

"Perhaps once we've found her a new disguise we can take some time to learn the extent of her ability." He returned the smile with one of his own.

Timpani giggled and reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with Blumiere's. "C'mon!" she said, picking up the pace. "If we don't hurry, we won't make it before dark!"

"Woah!" Blumiere nearly stumbled as he tried to keep up with her, then righted himself and burst into laughter, following her lead across the grassy field.

By the time the couple reached the small home in the woods, stars were beginning to dot the sky. Only Mimi was waiting outside.

"Blue!" The green-skinned girl exclaimed, rushing forward to give him a hug. "You're okay!"

"And so are you," Blumiere said. "I'm glad to see you again. Er, where's Ronan?"

"He and his nanna are at the festival already!"

Blumiere released Mimi from the hug and stood up straight. "The… festival…?" he murmured.

"The Summer Festival is tonight!" Timpani's eyes sparkled. "Oh, it will be wonderful, Blumiere! I'm sure you'll love it!"

"And there will be plenty of people, so I'm sure we'll find a new girl for me to turn into!"

Blumiere didn't seem to hear Timpani or Mimi's comments. He was staring off into the distance with glazed eyes and a frown on his lips. _A festival… Just like… the ones mother used to go to…_

" _Do you actually think your mother interacted with any of the humans she saw?"_ He winced as he recalled his father's words. " _She stayed hidden and watched the humans from a distance, and the day they found her, they_ killed her!"

"I don't think I should go…" He whispered.

Timpani immediately understood. "It's dark enough, Blumiere. They won't notice your skin color."

He shuddered. "I'm not so sure…" But Timpani intertwined her fingers with his once again and squeezed his hand.

"I won't make you come with, Blumiere. I can understand why you're afraid." She met his uncertain gaze and offered a smile.

 _Mother watched the humans from a distance… How exactly do you know that, father? Did she tell you? Did she tell you vivid stories about her visits like she told me?_ Blumiere set his jaw. _And I'm sure she had friends, too! How could you know that she didn't? Timpani's proof that humans can be friendly!_

"No, I'll come. Mimi will need the extra help, anyway." He smiled at the girl and she clapped her hands.

"Yay! Blue's coming to the festival!" She took off in the direction of the town, giggling.

"You're shaking," Timpani squeezed Blumiere's hand again. "If you ever feel like you should leave, feel free. Or if you'd like to watch from a distance—"

"No," Blumiere shook his head. "S-sorry, no, I can… I can do this."

Timpani smirked at him. "I'm glad. We'll get to spend more time together!"

That was something he was looking forward to. Any time together with Timpani was time well spent. "Yes. Shall we get going?"

The caramel-haired woman laughed and skipped after Mimi, leading a nervous Blumiere behind her.

The Summer Festival was well underway by the time they arrived. Brilliant lights of red and gold were strung across the Town Square, lighting up the now-black sky. Flutes, drums, and fiddles were played together in a tune that a large group of humans was dancing to, and some were even singing along. The air was filled with the scent of baked goods and something Blumiere was unfamiliar with that smelled like warm apples. He noticed a few men drinking large cups full of what he assumed was the apple drink.

"Is that alcohol?" he whispered to Timpani.

"No!" Timpani giggled and elbowed him playfully. "It's cider! You've never had apple cider before?"

He shook his head.

"Well, you ought to! I'll go get a few cups for us." As Timpani vanished, Blumiere glanced at Mimi, who was scanning the crowd. He noticed she was wearing a large sweater with a hood she'd pulled over her head. When she hid her hands in the pockets, no one could tell she was any different from the rest. _I wonder if Timpani has a sweater I could borrow._ The thought made him chuckle.

"All of the girls I can see are dumb and ugly. I want to look pretty!" Mimi pouted.

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. "That's a tall order from someone who needs this disguise to stay safe. You ought to take what you can get, Mimi."

"But Melody was so perfect," she sighed. "I don't want just any other girl… I want someone perfect!"

"Keep looking then," Blumiere shrugged. "But if it comes down to being safe or being 'imperfect,' you can't be picky."

"Yeah, I know," Mimi brushed him off with an eyeroll. Blumiere narrowed his eyes but said nothing else.

_I didn't know she had such an attitude! I suppose without any parents to teach her how to behave, she wouldn't know any better…_

Timpani returned, expertly holding three cups of cider in her hands. She offered the smallest one to Mimi, who took it eagerly and gave the second cup to Blumiere. "Careful, it's hot," she warned.

He blew the steam off of the cider and took a small sip. It tasted just as he'd suspected, like warm apples. "Mm. It's delicious!"

"It's even better in the wintertime. Perhaps you could come to the Winter Festival too!"

"Perhaps," Blumiere nodded. So far, he was enjoying himself.

"'Ey!" Ronan emerged from the crowd and approached them, grinning widely. "Blue's back! An' Mimi, yeh made it to the festival!"

"I did! Where's your nanna?"

"Oh, I told her I was goin' teh find some friends. Not a lie!" Ronan and Mimi shared a laugh. The orange-haired boy turned his attention back to Blumiere. "I'm surprised you came."

"Me too," Blumiere chuckled. "But we've stayed out of sight so far." They'd barely left the treeline.

"There are some really fun games! I wish yeh could play them, too, Blue…" Ronan trailed off.

Blumiere shrugged. "I don't mind. You and Mimi can play them together, and I can wait here, with Timpani." She smiled at him from behind her cup of cider.

"Okay!" Mimi chirped, and Ronan nodded. The children took off, starting a race towards a nearby stand.

Now that they were alone again, Blumiere and Timpani settled down on a bench that was covered in shadows by a tree that grew overhead. Blumiere kept his head down, trying his best not to draw attention to himself.

"Just wait until the fire dance," Timpani said, brimming with excitement. "Oh, you'll love it. And they turn off the lights, too, so we can sit closer and watch."

"There's a fire dancer?" _That sounds dangerous._

"Not just one. Ten of them. It's spectacular, Blumiere, just wait until you see it."

The blue-skinned man couldn't hold back a laugh. _Her eyes are shining. And her smile is so beautiful…_ Catching himself staring at her, he turned away and cleared his throat. "It must really be wonderful, then."

"Indeed," Timpani whispered, leaning her head on Blumiere's shoulder.

"You're not tired, are you?" his eyes widened. _It would be a shame if she fell asleep before the dance!_

"Oh, no." He caught her giggling and wondered what could be so funny.

"Timpani?"

"Yes, Blumiere?"

"You… You're a good friend, Timpani."

"You're more than a good friend to me, Blumiere."

"Oh?" His heartbeat quickened.

"You're my best friend."

Blumiere rested his head on top of hers. "You're my best friend, too."

"Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?" Mimi's cheerful voice broke through the peacefulness of Blumiere and Timpani's conversation, and both of their heads shot up at once.

"What?" Timpani asked.

"O'Chunks won a prize! He's super good at the ring toss game!"

Ronan appeared, lugging an enormous teddy bear behind him.

Blumiere's jaw dropped. "My goodness! It's as big as you!" He looked from Ronan to Timpani and back to the bear. "I had no idea such a thing existed."

"You don't know about a lot o' stuff, Blue," Ronan quipped innocently. "Cuz yeh lived in that castle yer whole life."

Blumiere put a finger to his lips and glanced around at the passersby. None of them were paying any attention, thankfully. "Yes, well… I suppose you're right."

"Don't worry," Timpani patted his shoulder. "You'll learn about plenty of things if you keep coming to visit!"

"As I intend to do," Blumiere nodded. "I'll come back as often as possible. It's much more fun here than it is at home." _Especially while I'm supposed to be stuck in my room._

"Yay!" Mimi cheered, clapping her hands together. Her enthusiasm was cut short, however, as a nearby string of lights went out. One by one, the rest of the lights in the Square were snuffed out.

"The fire dance is about to start!" Timpani stood up and pulled Blumiere to his feet. By now, the only light remaining was a glowing red orb on a stage in the center of the Square. Timpani's skin looked just as dark as Blumiere's. "Let's go!" she urged. "Let's sit a little closer!"

He allowed her to lead him towards a blanket on the ground not far from the stage. There were several blankets on the ground, mostly occupied by children, with a few adults here and there, though most of the older humans were standing. With Ronan and Mimi nearby, Blumiere and Timpani could pass off as parents.

The tribesman fidgeted. "We're very close," he whispered. The glow of the stage light was preventing total darkness from cloaking him.

"They'll turn that light off soon," she assured him.

Sure enough, once everyone was seated, the red orb was carried off of the stage and snuffed out. Now in pitch darkness, Blumiere was able to relax… that is until Timpani nudged him in the side.

"Blumiere, your eyes!" she breathed, and immediately he knew what she was talking about.

_How could I have forgotten?!_

Like the other members of the Tribe of Darkness, Blumiere's eyes glowed softly in the darkness. It wasn't very noticeable, but when there was no other light source around, it would be easy for him to be spotted. He squeezed his eyes shut—and then reopened them when a blaze of light flashed across his eyelids.

A man in a silver suit had stepped onto the stage, wielding two torches that were alight with fire. Without any introduction, nine other men and women stepped onto the stage, forming a 'V'. On the leader's signal, the group began an elaborate dance, waving their torches in patterns that left streaks across the sky, and sometimes even throwing the torches at another dancer or juggling them. While Timpani stared in awe, Blumiere was simply impressed no one had gotten burned.

When one of the dancers stepped to the center stage and claimed he was going to 'swallow the fire,' Blumiere could hardly watch. Noticing his discomfort, Timpani allowed him to cower behind her shoulder. "He's done it," she whispered. "Now watch, he's going to breathe it out!"

Sure enough, the man on the stage spewed a plume of flames and smoke into the sky and then turned to the crowd, embracing the cheers.

"Impressive," Blumiere muttered. He couldn't help but imagine what it'd be like to hold a flame inside of his stomach. _If this is the humans' idea of fun, it's a wonder there are still so many of them left!_

The fire dancers began their next act, in which they combined acrobatics with their earlier dance. They climbed on top of each other, forming a pyramid that was ablaze with fire. The flames seemed to lick at the edges of the suits they were wearing, but they did not catch fire. Finally, the lead dancer stepped to the center of the stage once more.

"It is time for the finale! The Fire Dragon!" The cheering in the crowd turned into a low murmur.

"He's going to ask for a volunteer," Timpani sounded as though she could barely contain her excitement. "And just wait and see what they do!"

Blumiere wished he could share in her enthusiasm, but the entire fire dancing act had yet to do more than give him goosebumps.

"Who shall be the dragon's victim?" the man asked the crowd.

Ronan's hand shot up. "Me! Pick me!"

"Ronan, wait," Blumiere reached forward to try and quiet the boy, but it was too late. The fire leader had seen Ronan's hand first.

"You! You are the Fire Dragon's victim! Seize him!" the other dancers filed off of the stage towards Ronan, who was trying to hold in laughter.

Blumiere, on the other hand, was trying to keep himself from fleeing the scene. The fire was coming awfully close, and…

" _Blumiere!_ " Panic flashed in Timpani's eyes as the dancers drew closer. " _Blumiere, you have to go!_ "

He scrambled backward, trying to escape the light of the fire, but as he stood, his foot caught on the blanket and he fell back. He locked eyes with one of the dancers and froze.

For a moment, no one moved. The torch's light revealed his obviously discolored skin, and his cerulean eyes glowed faintly in the half-darkness. One by one, every human turned to look at him. It was clear they didn't know what to do.

" _Seize him,_ " one of the dancers whispered, and at once the nine fire wielders rushed at Blumiere, torches blazing.

Struggling to stand, Blumiere tried to run, but the dancers had a hold of him before he could move a centimeter. As they dragged him towards the stage, he tried desperately to focus on teleporting out of there, but his mind was so overworked, and the heat of the flames threatened to singe his skin. Vaguely he heard Timpani screaming his name, but she was lost in the now-writhing crowd.

He was led to the center of the stage, facing the mass of humans. A dancer on each side held him in place, pointing their torches at him.

"There is a demon in our midst!" The lead dancer called. The crowd was overcome by shouting and jeers.

"Burn him!"

"Teach him a lesson!"

"Send him back to Hell where he belongs!"

Blumiere shook. "Please," he begged, "I haven't c-come to harm you!"

"Then tell us, demon, why have you come down from your mighty castle?" The lead dancer brought his torch dangerously close to Blumiere's face. "Did you come to enjoy the festival?"

Blumiere was unable to reply, and the crowd was filled with uproarious laughter.

"Then I'm sure you'll be glad to be a part of our grand finale. _Light the fire!_ "

The dancers holding him dragged him backward towards a metal pole that supported the stage. They began to tie him to it with ropes, while other dancers stood with their torches at the ready.

"No!" Blumiere screamed. Smoke burned his eyes and elicited tears, which splashed onto his cheeks. _Mother, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… I should have known, I should have learned from your mistakes. Father, I should have listened to your warnings… I'm so sorry… For you to lose your wife and then your son… I'll be causing you so much pain…_

Real tears filled his eyes now, and he hung his head in guilt and shame, waiting for the flames to consume him.

Then, there was a great commotion in the crowd of people. Screams rose above the turmoil, and suddenly the flames near Blumiere were moved away. He was aware of the dancers running away from him, but… why?

A massive figure was skittering towards him. It was as tall as the stage and sported six long legs that trampled over any human in the way. A grotesque head supported the legs, and, dangling from the head by a thread, was the body of a little green girl. It occurred to Blumiere that this _thing_ was causing the panic, and that this _thing_ was _Mimi._

The dancers threw their torches at her, but they bounced off harmlessly and onto the cobblestone. As she scuttled towards Blumiere, the crowd dissipated, and all of the humans either boarded themselves up in their houses or dashed off into the forest.

In a puff of purple smoke, Mimi had regained her human-esque form. She dropped to her knees, gasping for air.

"Blumiere!" Timpani sprinted onto the stage towards the man and frantically began untying the ropes that bound him to the pole. When he was free, he slumped forward into her arms, and she sheltered him in a tight embrace. "Oh… Oh, I was so worried…" Timpani was sobbing.

Blumiere's entire body was shaking. He was struggling to breathe steadily. _Too close… that was too close…_

"N-Nev-ver ag-gain…" he stammered.

"No, no, no… You're right, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have…"

" _W-we_ should-dn't have." Blumiere corrected her, and then he buried his face in her shoulder, feeling the back of his throat sting with the promise of tears.

Mimi clawed at the ground, trying to gulp in air. " _H-help!_ "

Timpani and Blumiere ceased their hushed conversation. An elderly human male dressed in a thick, light green robe was standing over Mimi, who was whimpering and covering her eyes. He pulled back the hood of his robe to reveal yellow eyes, which glowed softly in the darkness. With steady hands he pulled the flailing green girl into his arms and pushed the back of her neck. She immediately stopped struggling and went limp.

"Come with me," he said to the horrified couple. "There is something I must tell you."

* * *

_Aha ha ha ha. What a shame. The poor fool almost followed his mother to the grave. The humans must have a fascination with watching blue-faced creatures burn…"_


	11. Consequences of War Chapter One

_**Remember** _

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter One

" _Where are you going, brother?"_

_Merlumio froze, feeling a jolt of fear shoot down his spine. Turning to his little brother, he masked his face with an innocent smile. "I need to use the restroom."_

" _Liar."_

" _Merletoph!" Merlumio's eyes widened. He hadn't expected such a harsh response._

" _You've been leaving a lot lately, Lio. It's always late at night like this. And I think… I think I know what you're doing."_

_The eleven-year-old boy had nothing to say to his ten-year-old brother. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, challenging Merletoph to state his suspicions._

" _Stay away from that book, Lio."_

" _What?! How did you_ —"

" _You think I haven't noticed? You've been acting different! It's talking to you, isn't it? You're hearing voices in your head, aren't you!? And the way you talk to yourself in a hushed voice…"_

" _Stop it! You don't know what you're talking about! I'm not hearing voices, it's just… I…"_

" _Then where were you going, Merlumio?" Merletoph took a step towards his indignant brother. "Surely you haven't had to use the bathroom every night."_

" _You don't know...what you're talking about…"_

" _Then come back to bed, Lio. Please."_

 _Merlumio clenched his teeth. "B-But…"  
_ " _What's wrong? Is it asking you to come see it?"_

_Suddenly Merlumio's countenance fell. In a panicked motion he grabbed for Merletoph's nightgown and whimpered, "It doesn't ask, Leph. It demands. I'm...afraid of what will happen if I don't do what it says!"_

" _What can it do? It's just a dusty old book…" Merletoph trailed off as he met Merlumio's terror-filled gaze. "Okay, let's go get Father." When Merlumio began to object, his younger brother continued, "Please, Lio. Let's go talk to him. He'll know what to do."_

_After a moment of hesitation, the young boy nodded. "O-okay… Let's go."_

* * *

It took every ounce of strength Timpani had to keep from crying.

She was bewildered, shocked, and downright terrified. Right now, following a mysterious man down a forest trail into a portion of the woods she was unfamiliar with was the last thing she wanted to do. Not to mention the sun had already set, so they were trudging along half-blind, the only light being that from a lantern the old man was carrying. She would have fled, but he had Mimi, and there was no way she was leaving her in his clutches, especially not after her dramatic transformation earlier. So many questions filled Timpani's mind about the power the young girl possessed. She could shapeshift, yes, but only into things she could see and copy. So where had she gotten the inspiration for... _that_? She was half-tempted to snatch Mimi away from the stranger, and she probably would have attempted to, were it not for the trembling man she was supporting.

She should have sent Blumiere back to his castle after the night's events. But the man had insisted he tag along, and, like Mimi, Timpani didn't feel comfortable leaving Blumiere alone either.

Doing his best to walk on his own, Blumiere would send her terror-stricken glances from time to time, and would occasionally attempt to smile at her, as if he were trying to pretend that nothing had happened at all. She could see the confliction in his eyes; he was so scared he didn't know how to handle it.

"I should have stayed behind," Blumiere muttered for the umpteenth time. Timpani had stopped correcting him (it was he who had originally accredited both of them with fault), and settled for shaking her head.

"Timpani."

He was staring at her.

"It isn't your fault." She humored him with a response, the same response she'd given over and over again.

"That's not what I mean. I should have… _never_ … Never left… My father was right…"

Timpani's stomach tightened. _He regrets ever leaving his castle in the first place,_ she realized. _Does that mean… he regrets meeting me, too?_

Before she could ponder that any further, the man stopped in his tracks and muttered, "We are here."

Timpani blinked and surveyed the endless darkness of the forest, searching for a structure. "There's nothing here," she sighed, letting her irritation cover up her nervousness. She pushed away the fear that was trying to creep into her stomach and squeezed Blumiere's hand. The young man was shifting on his feet, watching the older fellow with a mixture of hesitation and intrigue.

He gently lowered Mimi to the ground and stepped away from her and towards a large tree. Placing his hand on the bark, he turned his face towards the sky and closed his eyes. Then, in a flash of light, a house fazed into view behind the tree.

While Timpani gaped, Blumiere let go of her hand with a gasp and staggered forward. "That was celestial magic! How did you…?"

The old man returned to pick Mimi up again and then approached the house. "Perhaps you know me, dark magician. My name is Merletoph."

Another gasp escaped Blumiere's lips. "No! You can't be!"  
"Why not? Because I'm supposed to be dead? So you thought… so the whole Tribe of Darkness thought…" Merletoph trailed off and entered the house, leaving a bewildered Blumiere and a baffled Timpani behind.

"But… But Merlumio killed you!" Blumiere scrambled after him.

"Obviously not. For here I stand." Mimi was placed on a wooden table next to various odd devices.

"So...after all this time…"

Timpani burst into the house, cutting Blumiere off. "Alright, what is going on here? I demand an explanation!"

The blue-faced man blinked at her and then sighed. "Oh. Right."

"Oh right, what? I have a right to know what you're talking about! And don't begin to tell me I wouldn't understand!" she continued, stopping Blumiere from saying anything else.

"Lady Timpani, I assure you…"

Said lady glared at Blumiere.

"...that an explanation would not be out of the question…"

"Right you are," Merletoph nodded, breaking up the spat. He motioned to a couch nearby, offering his guests a place to sit. Blumiere took a seat, however, Timpani remained standing.

"Merletoph, was it?" She addressed the elderly man with an authoritative confidence. "I would like an explanation for all of this. What happened to Mimi? What did you do to her? How do you even _know_ Mimi? For that matter, how do you know Blumiere? How does he know you? And who is Merlumio?" She raised an eyebrow, unwavering.

"In order to answer that many questions, perhaps it is best we just start at the beginning. Sit down, milady, it will be a while."

Instead, the woman stalked over to the table on which Mimi lay. "I don't know that I can trust you. Not after what you did to Mimi."

"I did not harm her, I promise you. I only had to shut her down in order to repair her."

Timpani and Blumiere exchanged a glance. "Shut her down…," she murmured, "What do you mean by that?"

Merletoph joined Timpani next to the table and turned Mimi over so she was laying on her stomach. Now curious, Blumiere approached and peered over Timpani's shoulder. With a steady hand, Merletoph brushed the green hair away from Mimi's neck and nudged the skin that was hiding beneath it. A thin, metal square only about a centimeter long emerged from a tiny slot; the old man removed it and presented it to the couple, who were gaping in a mixture of awe and horror.

"What...is that? What…?"  
"What is _Mimi_?" Timpani finished Blumiere's sentence for him.

"Magic-Inspired Mechanical Intelligence." When he was met with blank stares, Merletoph continued, "Mimi is not made up of flesh and blood. She is comprised of both mechanical parts, and magic. This component I've removed from her contains her memories or, at least, the ones she's made since she ran away."

"Why would she run away from you?" Timpani narrowed her eyes. "What do you do to her to make her afraid of you?!"

Merletoph glared at Timpani and exhaled through his nose. "I have done nothing to her. She needed to be repaired, and after I was finished, I returned her memories, but I put in an empty drive by mistake, instead of the full one, so when she returned to life she did not recognize me, and ran away."

Timpani sighed. She had no choice but to believe that. "So, if that's true… Her memories of Blumiere and I are only on this square, and her memories of you are on some other square? Will she forget about us when she wakes up?"  
"And Ronan," Blumiere whispered. "He would be devastated if Mimi forgot about him."

"I can merge them." Merletoph stepped over to a counter behind the table and began tinkering with something. "It will take a while. In the meantime, perhaps I can answer more of your questions, milady."

"You said earlier it would be easiest if you started from the beginning."  
"Right you are. Ahem… I am a member of the former Tribe of Ancients. The last member alive, possibly… The tribe formed in order to sustain a balance between light and darkness throughout the worlds, and their main goal was to protect the Dark Prognosticus, a book that contained a soul that wished to bring darkness upon all worlds and dimensions. The only way the book could do so, however, was through a host…"

* * *

_What troubles you, Merloo?"_

" _It is my son…Merlumio. He… Well, I know we have observed the signs for some time now, but I never thought it would get to this point…"_

" _No… The Prognosticus…"_

" _It is speaking to him, yes. I fear for him, Merlumina. What am I to do?"_

" _Merloo, perhaps it is time we and the rest of the Prognostic Order learned more about this book. Perhaps we should delve deeper into the prophecies it foretells."_

" _And what good would that do us?"_

" _We could use our own magic to contradict the prophecies…"  
Merloo shook his head. "Impossible_—"

"Father _!" A frantic Merletoph stumbled into the room, wide-eyed and out of breath._

_Anticipation brought Merloo to his feet, and at once he was running for the door._

_Merlumio met them in the hallway. "I told you not to get father!" he shouted, jabbing a finger towards Merletoph._

" _I was scared, Lio…"_

" _Shut up! I hate you!"_

" _Merlumio!" Merloo boomed, stepping in between the two boys. "Be kind to your brother. Now, what is the meaning of this?"_

" _He tried to kill me…" Merletoph whimpered._

"Liar!" Merlumio's words came out in a hoarse screech, and he lunged for his little brother. Merloo scooped the child up before he could get very far. The boy thrashed for a few seconds before going limp in his father's arms. Then his body began to shudder. "Father, help m-me," he sobbed. "I don't want to be like this… I-I didn't mean to hurt h-him…"

* * *

After that, I rarely saw my brother. My father would keep close watch over him at all times, and the only time we were allowed to be together was when my father was present. Our meetings grew fewer and fewer, until it felt as though I no longer had a brother at all. And then one day…"

* * *

_The whole castle was shaking. Merletoph pulled his knees to his chest and curled up in the corner of his room, his heart pounding. He hadn't seen his father in almost an hour, and no one else had come to retrieve him. The only door to his bedroom was blocked by a layer of the ceiling that had collapsed in the hallway, and he was unable to sense his father's soul signature, so he had nowhere to teleport to._

_In fact, as hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to pick up his father's signature. There was always an inkling in the back of his mind that his father was nearby, and now that it was absent he felt immeasurably frightened._

_Suddenly another presence filled his mind, and in front of him the world warped and swirled, revealing Merlumio._

" _Brother," he spoke but it was not his voice. Merletoph flinched._

_Merlumio was hovering about a foot off the ground. His appearance had completely changed; his white hair and green robes had turned black, his yellow eyes had turned red, and his pale skin had been stained a dark blue. In his hand was the tome he had sworn his life to protect: the Dark Prognosticus._

* * *

"I cannot remember what happened after that. I woke up about a day later amidst a ruined city. My brother was the cause of the destruction, and for several hours more he set fire to houses and murdered the natives… I did not try to escape, for I did not know where to go, or even where I was. Finally the natives, the humans, retreated and the bloodshed stopped. Merlumio, following the instructions of the Prognosticus, built a castle on top of the ruins. We lived there for many years, during which I rarely saw my brother. I would hide from him, but he would always find me, and ask me to do strange things. He wanted me to help him build his kingdom, but again and again I refused…"

* * *

_The Voice speaks, Merletoph. Come, the ritual won't take long. Just a bit of your blood…"_

" _Cease this madness, Merlumio! I will not commit to your ways!"_

" _But how else am I to expand the Tribe?"_

" _Perhaps it would be better if it did not!"_

_Merlumio cried out in anger and struck his brother with a bit of dark magic. It sent a fiery sensation through Merletoph's body, causing him to fall to his knees._

" _Lio…"_

" _Enough! You are useless, brother! If you will not commit, then I will find someone else!" He left his brother on the floor, writhing in pain._

* * *

"That same night, Merlumio came back with a woman from the village. He treated her more horribly than he could ever treat me, for she had no magic to defend herself with… I could not bear to watch him abuse her, so I ran away to the village. However, they would not let me stay, for fear of my magic and my relation to my brother. So I was cast out into the woods, and I stayed here in my magically-cloaked hut for years. It was during that time that I worked on practicing and expanding my magical abilities. I grew highly skilled in dimensional travel, just as my father was. My eyes were opened to millions of worlds and dimensions; finally I was able to return home…."

* * *

_The castle he'd grown up in was a shambles. Merlumio had gotten here first, it seemed. Merletoph reached out, searching desperately for the soul signatures of the ones he knew. He only sensed three, the remaining members of the Prognostic Order: Merlumina, Merlight, and Merlimbis. After a bit of searching, he found them amidst the rubble, huddled together._

" _Merletoph?" Merlumina croaked._

" _What happened?" the sage knew the answer._

" _Merlumio came, a-and…" Merlight was struggling to breathe. "But no matter… We have done our duty… We have taken the steps necessary in order to save the worlds from destruction."_

_Merlumina struggled to her feet. "Your brother is long gone," she took Merletoph's hand, "and soon, so will be the fate of the Ancients…"_

" _But—"_

" _Worry not, Merletoph. Someday, that book will be stopped…"_

" _I will stop it. I will save my brother!"_

The light in Merlumina's eyes faded. "Leph, you mustn't get yourself hurt. Go back and wait for the right time. You will know when it has arrived."

* * *

After my trip I returned here and continued to study magic. I found new ways to use it, and eventually, Mimi was born. Then, about twenty years ago, I dared to show my face to the humans again. I thought perhaps no one would recognize me, since, in my old age, I looked like one of them. I met a middle-aged widow named Celia who was willing to talk to me, and as time went on we grew to trust each other. I told her everything that had happened and in turn, she bore me a single child, a daughter who we named Sha'i."

Blumiere shot up from his seat on the couch. He had only been half-listening to the dragging tale, but as soon as he heard his aunt's name he was jolted out of his neutral state. "Sha'i? Your daughter is named Sha'i? Where is she?"

Timpani grabbed Blumiere's arm. "You know _her_ , too? How do you know people in this town that I don't know?"

"Well, Sha'i no longer resides here," Merletoph cut in. "And might I add, I'm just as curious as you are, Lady Timpani. How do you know my daughter, Blumiere?"

The young man clasped his hands together. "Yes, that… I-I've never actually _seen_ her… But I know her husband. He's my uncle, a-actually."

Merletoph narrowed his eyes. "Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side."

Blumiere felt his heart skip a beat. "Y-yes, yes, that would be terribly unfortunate…"

"So Sha'i had the power of a full-blooded Ancient? Even though her mother was a human?" Timpani's question helped to cover up the excessive stammering coming from Blumiere.

"Correct. Now, if it had been a human and a Mage, the dark powers would not be present at all in the child. It would be fully human."

"So… where is Sha'i now?"

Merletoph had finished working on Mimi's memory chip. He walked over to the table she was on, chip in hand. "I can sense her soul wandering through dimensions as we speak. I am certain she has found this world's Dimensional Gateway."

"What is that?" Timpani added another question to her seemingly endless interrogation.

"Every world and dimension has one Dimensional Gateway, which is usually well hidden. They all lead to The Gateway, a massive, maze-like dimension that contains the Gateway to every world and dimension. The doors are ever changing, and most who enter never return to the world they started at."

"So Sha'i's not coming back," Blumiere muttered. "Unless she uses teleportation."

"And I doubt she will," Merletoph sighed. "She sought after that door for a reason. She knows she has a place to come back to, but I do not think that is her plan."

Merletoph inserted the memory chip into the back of Mimi's neck, and immediately the girl came back to life. After cracking her neck a few times, she blinked and stared in turn at each person in the room.

"What...just happened…?" she whispered. "I feel...weird."

Timpani hopped up and made her way towards the green girl. "Mimi!" she laughed, "You're alright!"

"And so are you… and Blue… and Papa…" Mimi's brow was furrowed. "I'm confused… why did I live outside for so long? And where's O'Chunks…?"

"Perhaps it would be best if I explained that to you later, my dear," Merletoph helped her down from the table. "Now, why don't you go get ready for bed. Perhaps you can get an hour or two of sleep in before the sun rises."

Timpani and Blumiere exchanged a glance. The mention of the sun rising sent shivers down the man's spine. "I should go home…"

"You do need to rest," Merletoph agreed. "Especially after what happened tonight."

Blumiere shuddered at the recollection of what he had been through. Timpani placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Go get some rest, Blumiere."

He took a few tiny steps in her direction and gave her an exhausted hug, which she returned eagerly.

"I'll see you soon, right?"

"Yes. See you soon."

Their eyes met for a moment longer and then he evaporated, teleporting back to his castle.

Now alone with Merletoph, Timpani felt fear creeping back into her stomach. So she pushed it away and filled the silence with another question. "So, I was wondering about Mimi's abilities… what exactly can she do…?"

"Besides shapeshifting into the creatures she sees, she can create matter. Little rocks she likes to call Rubees."  
Timpani nodded slowly. She didn't really see how that would be useful, except to use as a weapon or a projectile. "And as for her shapeshifting, she cannot copy someone who is dead, correct?"

Merletoph's expression darkened. "You know of Melody, then?"

"Yes."

"I apologize."

"Pardon?"

"Mimi did not lose her ability to shapeshift into Melody because Melody died."

Timpani raised an eyebrow.

"Melody died because Mimi used her ability on Melody for too long."

"…what?" The caramel-haired woman stood with her mouth agape. "So Mimi…"

"Every time she uses her ability, she steals a bit of energy from the person she copies. Because she continued to copy Melody over and over again, Melody became very ill. Mimi drove that illness further until she succumbed to it, and died."

"D-does she…?"

"Mimi does not know. I do not know how to tell her without upsetting her. I tried to warn her, but she would not listen to me because she did not recognize me. My only hope is to correct that now."

"And what of…" Timpani couldn't describe the monster she'd witnessed Mimi turn into. "Well, when she saved Blumiere…"

Merletoph nodded. "I did not program her to do that. It seems the magic she's infused with has a mind of its own."

Timpani's eyes widened. "Is it dangerous for her to… do that?"

"I have no evidence—"

Merletoph was cut off by a thunderous explosion. Timpani jumped and stumbled backwards. The loud noise had come from the distant town.

"What was that?!"

Merletoph shook his head.

"Be prepared, Lady Timpani. War is coming."


	12. Consequences of War Chapter Two

_**Remember** _

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter Two

" _Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side."_

Dimentio burst into his father's room, became visible, made a few exasperated signs in Aldrik's direction and then disappeared again, all without making a sound. Raising an eyebrow, Aldrik teleported after his son, and a second later both of them reappeared on the castle's roof.

"Explain," Dimentio spat, "why you never told me mother was a descendant of the Ancients."

He was met with stunned silence.

"My _grandfather_ is Merletoph, son of Merloo, a member of the Prognostic Order. Merloo was the most powerful sage to ever live, father! And _your_ father was one of the most powerful mages to ever live! What does that make me?"

Aldrik gritted his teeth and avoided the question. "Who told you this?!"

"Merletoph himself! He's still alive, did you know that, father? And do you know what else he told me? He said mother left. She's not even on this world anymore. Did you know that?"

Again, Aldrik fell silent. Dimentio hovered closer to him, studying his father's eyes. When he refused to meet his masked gaze, realization dawned on the young magician.

"You did know that, didn't you?"

"Hmph."

"Of course you did! If she was an Ancient she would have had a soul signature! You knew all along exactly where she was! You probably know where she is right now!" Dimentio had advanced further, his voice continuing to rise in volume.

"She does not have a signature. Her father did not teach her magic. He wanted her to be as close to a human as possible. She ran away the night she left you with me, once you were old enough to live without her. She was afraid of you."

Aldrik's bluntness stunned Dimentio.

"Aha ha. She was afraid of me."

"Yes."

"Of course she would be. I am a monster, after all. Neither human nor mage nor sage. I am an abomination, isn't that right, father? Aha ha ha ha."

After another moment of silence, Aldrik muttered, "You are...unique."

"Aha ha ha ha ha."

"Goodnight, Dimentio. And please, no more questions."

"Oh, but father," the motley-clad boy cut in, "there is one more thing I need to ask."

Aldrik hesitated, but before he could deny his son the right to speak, Dimentio pressed on, "If you knew mother was gone all along, why did you send Blumiere to search for her?"

"I…"

"It was a very dangerous task. He almost died."

Aldrik's eyes widened.

"The humans almost set him aflame. Just like Anastaise, aha."

"How in the worlds did he escape?"

"He—" Dimentio paused and again advanced on Aldrik. "Now that's a curious question, father."

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you going to ask if he's alright? Are you not concerned at all for your dear nephew?"

"I—"

"First you send him into town on an impossible mission, knowing the hostile nature of the humans, and then you act surprised that he made it out alive."

" _Be silent, Dimentio._ "

"You were _trying_ to get him killed, weren't you, father?" Dimentio's voice wavered for a split second as Aldrik closed the gap between them. In a sudden wave of alarm and presentiment, he lashed out at his father, expelling a blast of magic from his fingertips. Immediately he was thrown backward as the orb bounced harmlessly off of Aldrik and exploded. The air around the mage rippled; he stepped onward toward his son, unfazed.

Relentless, Dimentio staggered to his feet, raised his face to the night sky, and screamed, " _You were trying to kill Blumiere! You sent him to his death! Aha ha ha! But he's still ali_ —"

Dimentio was cut off as Aldrik lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. He gagged as his father shot dark magic into his bloodstream; immediately his entire body went numb and he dropped to the ground with a _thud_.

"Be silent," Aldrik repeated. Then he teleported away, leaving the twitching boy behind.

"A...ha ha… ha…" Dimentio sputtered out one more laugh before he could no longer move his lips.

* * *

Blumiere was surprised to find Aldrik waiting for him in his room. At least it wasn't his father, but the sight of the mage still made his stomach churn.

"Uncle?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Dimentio told me everything that happened," Aldrik stated. His face held no emotion.

A shiver ran down Blumiere's spine. _That means Dimentio was following me the whole time,_ he realized. The thought made him uneasy; was Dimentio always watching him? Was he in the room right now? "Everything…?"

"Yes."

"So you know that… Sha'i is gone."

"Yes…"

"I am so sorry, Uncle."

"I did not know before that she was a member of the Ancients," Aldrik sighed. "I am surprised she does not have a soul signature. But then again, she never used any kind of magic, so perhaps her father never taught her."

Blumiere recalled Merletoph's comments on his uncle's relationship with Sha'i. "So, since Sha'i was from the Ancients, and you are from our Tribe… what does that make Dimentio?"

"I… don't know. I always thought his deformities were because of the Tribe's blood mixing with the human's blood, but now it seems they were caused by the mixing of blood magic and white magic."

"Deformities?" Blumiere furrowed his brow. "Is that why he wears a mask, then?"

Aldrik nodded and then offhandedly added, "But I too wear a mask, Blumiere. I wear a mask to hide deformities that you cannot see." He took a few steps toward his nephew.

Blumiere froze, repeating his uncle's words in his mind. Then, as Aldrik grew closer, he dared to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

"If you haven't figured it out yet, perhaps it is best you don't know at all."

Heartbeat quickening, Blumiere stepped backward, putting distance between himself and his uncle. Aldrik did not move further, but met Blumiere's gaze steadily. His eyes glinted, and for the first time Blumiere noticed there was an orange glow accenting his irises. He blinked and the light faded, leaving Aldrik with a slight smile on his face.

"Anyway, I came here to ask you about that woman you've been seeing, Blumiere."

The young man flinched.

"Even though we know of Sha'i's whereabouts now, I'm sure you'd like to continue meeting her."

"Yes, sir." Blumiere didn't say anything else.

"I will see what I can do. Likely Dimentio will aid you from now on."

"Thank you."

Aldrik stared at his nephew. "Be careful, Blumiere."

"Yes, sir."

Without another word, Aldrik disappeared, leaving Blumiere alone in his room. With a sigh of relief, he released the breath he'd been holding. Without changing into his nightclothes he got into his bed, hoping to make it seem as though he'd been there all night. It wasn't until he laid down that he realized just how exhausted he was; so much had happened since he'd last slept. But even exhaustion could not put him to sleep. After the encounter with Aldrik, Blumiere was now left to wonder what in the worlds his uncle had been talking about.

  
 _He could have been referring to his relationship with Sha'i,_ Blumiere thought. _He must wear a mask that hides the feelings he had for her so Father won't know. But then he said, 'Perhaps it's best if you don't know at all.' So there's something he's still hiding from me._

Blumiere sat up. "Wait," he whispered. "He mentioned that Sha'i was unable to use magic. But Merletoph said—"

A deafening explosion rattled the sconces on the walls, causing the blue flames held within to shutter and dance. Blumiere jumped out of bed, heart racing, and ran towards the door. It was locked, but he could hear footsteps and voices in the hallway, and soon his door swung open to reveal a grim-faced King Basile.

"Father! What was that noise?"

"Quickly, Blumiere," Basile motioned for his son to join him in the hallway. "The humans are attacking. We must defend the castle!"

"What?! Father, I can't fight them! None of us can! We aren't trained to use our magic for harm!"

"Would you rather die, then!?" Basile exclaimed. "They fight only with swords and torches, Blumiere. It will not take much to destroy them."

"Torches…?" Blumiere couldn't help but recall the heat of the torches that nearly ended his life. _What if the humans recognize me?_ A stunning realization followed that thought. _What if they're attacking_ because _of me?!_ Hands trembling, Blumiere stuttered, "Father, I-I can't."

Basile took him by the shoulder and led him into the hallway. Nearby there was a window that overlooked the front of the castle. Outside, humans were trickling slowly onto the castle grounds from the small cliff entrance. "Your family is out there fighting," Basile boomed. "And you _will_ fight by their side." With that, he teleported them both to the grounds below.

Henri and Dorian, two of Blumiere's older brothers, were hurling magic orbs at humans a few meters away. Basile nudged Blumiere in their direction. "Help your brothers. I am going to find Aldrik."

Basile's dark gaze met his with a stern glare, and Blumiere's heart lurched. He was looking for Aldrik? _I have a terrible feeling he's not looking for him so they can fight together…_

"And I will need a word with you, too, Blumiere. I'd like to have a talk with the both of you, actually."

"Yes, sir," Blumiere managed to utter, before turning away from his father, chills running down his spine. King Basile did not say another word, and so Blumiere broke into a run, prepared to die fighting alongside his brothers if it meant he did not have to face his father's wrath.

* * *

Ronan lay in his bed, wide awake. Flashing before him were images he could not shake. His best friend, twisting and turning until she was unrecognizable. He dared not shut his eyes for fear of recollecting the scene more vividly; the way her neck seemed to snap right off of her body, and the terrible monster that protruded from her body, lifting her off her feet and scuttling away on six spindly spider legs, pushing through the crowd of people, leaving behind a trail of terror.

After that, he'd fled. He'd weaved through the frantic crowd and sought out his grandmother, clinging to her before following her home. Now, six hours later, she was sleeping in her room across the hallway and he was restless, feeling no more secure than he'd felt out in the open.

Someone was pounding on the front door. Ronan jumped out of bed, refusing to be caught in a vulnerable position if someone planned on breaking in and attacking. As the assault on the wooden door continued, Ronan crept towards his grandmother's room and slid inside without making a sound.

"Nanna? Are yeh awake?"

The snoring figure remained motionless. Ronan prodded her in the side anxiously.

"Nanna!"

She snorted awake right as the front door broke down with a splintering _crack._ Footsteps thumped through the house. There were three or four people inside, Ronan guessed. He handed his grandmother her glasses and helped her to sit up in her bed. She in turn put a hand on Ronan's shoulder, holding him close.

The harsh glow of a torch rounded the corner to the bedroom, bathing Ronan and his grandmother in yellow light. Three men filed into the room, followed by a young red-haired woman wearing a long green dress. Ronan recognized her as his neighbor, Kathleen. She was carrying a small sword, as were two of the men. The third man had a cloth bag slung over his shoulder.

"Where is your father, immigrant?" the man with the bag demanded.

Ronan's eyes widened and he glanced from Kathleen to his grandmother and back to the man.

"I told you, sir," Kathleen said, "'is father's back in the 'omeland!"

"And my daughter went with him," Ronan's grandmother spoke up, straining her voice so she would be heard. "They're fightin' in a war. We 'aven't 'eard from them in three years!"

"Wha' do you want with 'im anyway?!" Ronan exclaimed.

"We're getting ready to fight a war of our own, here. We need people who are willing to fight."

"Yeh didn't ask me if I wanted to fight!" Kathleen cut in. "Yeh broke down me door and shoved a sword in me face!"

"Who are yeh fightin'?" Ronan furrowed his brow.

"The blue-faces atop the hill," the man growled. "No one wants to do it, but after that attack tonight it seems we've got to make the first move if we want to survive at all."

"'E didn't attack you! You attacked 'im!"

"And how do you know that, immigrant? How do you know he wasn't planning to attack?"

"Because Blue'd never 'urt anyone! Or anythin' at all!"

The man drew back. He exchanged a glance with one of the sword-wielding men and then turned back to Ronan. "Are you saying you knew this demon?"

"Ronan…" his grandmother breathed.

"He's in cahoots with the demon!"

"No!" Kathleen stepped forward. "No, Ronan, surely that's not what yeh meant! Yeh'd never conspire with a demon, would yeh?"

The orange-haired boy gulped. There wasn't anything he could say or do to get him out of this mess. His nanna had taught him never to lie, and even if he did, that wouldn't stop them from attacking Blumiere and his family. So Ronan took a deep breath and said, "I knew 'im. And I know 'he's not plannin' teh attack you."

Kathleen uttered a gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Ronan's grandmother squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"Well, if you know so much about him," the man with the bag grumbled, "then you should know his tribe's weaknesses, right?"

Before Ronan could reply, the man took his arm and dragged him towards the bedroom door.

"No, please!" his nanna struggled to get out of bed, reaching a hand out towards her grandson. Kathleen tried to coax her back into bed.

"It'll be fine, Aileen, I'll take good care of the lad. Yeh have my word." When she continued to protest, Kathleen added, "Yeh're not fit teh fight, anyway. Ronan's a brave lad. 'E'll be alright, I promise."

At last Aileen gave in. "Per'aps yeh'll save our town… at last…" she whispered. "Per'aps my Ronan will…"

"Per'aps 'e will," Kathleen agreed. And with that, she left the bedroom, sword firmly in hand.

The band of five met up with a group of about twenty other humans at the cliff base. They all held torches, swords, clubs, or other weapons. Ronan, empty handed, turned his head upward to the gray dawn sky, peering at the top of the cliff. Blumiere and his family were up there, unaware of the chaos that was about to erupt. And there was no way he could warn them.

The man with the bag, who had introduced himself as Clay, stood in front of the ragged crowd and addressed them. "Warriors of Tiede! This morning we will take back our land! This morning we will rid ourselves of the demons that live on this hill. Today, we will be free!"

As the crowd cheered, Ronan shuffled closer to Kathleen. "We've tried too many times in the past," she whispered, "and it always ends in sufferin.' Why do they think it'll be any different this time?"

Ronan, lost in thought, did not reply.

Clay continued, "Our plan is this: first, march to the top of the hill and circle the castle. Once we've surrounded the castle, we'll blow open the door and infiltrate their home. Kill everyone you see!"

Once more the crowd cheered. Kathleen gasped, "This is suicide!"

Nonetheless, the ragged warriors began to file up the side of the cliff, through the gate that drew the line between human and demon. Kathleen and Ronan were last in line save for Clay, who took up the rear.

The peaks of the obsidian towers rose into view as they ascended, and for a moment Ronan was lost in their beauty, and it pained him to know that soon the magnificent castle might be in ruins. As dangerous as the beings inside were, he felt bad that they would have no idea this was coming.

Once they reached the top, the line split in two, half heading to the right and half to the left, until they'd encircled the dark castle. Ronan, Kathleen, and Clay stopped right in front of the grand doors that served as the entrance.

Clay knelt down and swung the bag off of his shoulder. He reached inside and produced a round object with two small feet and a wind-up key sticking out of the back. Ronan immediately recognized the item.

"Here," Clay handed him two bob-ombs. "You'll be the one to blow the door open."

Ronan shook his head. "B-but… But a-aren't these illegal?"

"Nothing's illegal when you're fighting a war, kid. Now you're gonna throw those bob-ombs at the door, got it?"

Ronan could only stare at him.

"Please," Kathleen cut in, "let me do it. Don't make the poor lad do it!"

"Hush, immigrant," Clay waved her away. "For all we know, he's the reason the demon decided to attack in the first place."

"No, sir! Ronan'd never—"

"Throw it!" Clay barked with such ferocity that Ronan jumped and, panicking, he hurled the bob-omb at the door. It struck the metal with a _clunk_ and bounced back, unlit.

"Idiot!" Clay took another bob-omb and cranked the key in the back, causing the fuse to spark and catch fire. Then he thrust the explosive towards Ronan, forcing the boy to throw it in order not to be caught in the explosion himself.

This time, the bob-omb hit its mark. A terrible explosion shook the ground, throwing up a cloud of smoke. Kathleen staggered backward, unprepared for the force of the blow.

The warriors all readied their weapons, prepared to enter the castle. But as soon as the smoke cleared, it revealed an unsettling sight. The front doors were still shut tight, and now a dark mage in a purple robe stood in front of them, a magic orb crackling in his hand.


	13. Consequences of War Chapter Three

_**Remember** _

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter Three

"War?" Timpani hovered near the cloaked home's front door, eager to see for herself. "No, tell me they're not attacking again."

Merletoph opened the door for her, and they both emerged into the early morning air. Even though the sky was just beginning to brighten, Timpani could see a cloud of smoke rising in the distance, barely visible through the trees.

"No… why are they doing this again? Why now?"

"Lady Timpani," Merletoph sighed, "I think perhaps…"

"Don't say it." She hung her head, the answer to the question weighing deep on her heart. _Oh, Blumiere…_ Suddenly, she gasped. "Blumiere! He might be in trouble!"

She began to run for the town but Merletoph called out to her, "No, milady! You can't hope to stop them now!"

"I don't plan on stopping them! I'm going to find Blumiere and get him out of there!"

"And how do you _plan_ on doing that?"

"I was _planning_ on coming up with something when I got there!"

"Foolish." Merletoph shook his head. "Lady Timpani, without any magic to protect you, even stepping foot on that battlefield would make you vulnerable to grave injury."

"Then teach me something," Timpani took a step towards the sage. "Give me some magic that would allow me to defend myself."

Merletoph exhaled slowly, deep in thought. "There is only one thing I can teach you."

Timpani nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Teleportation can be learned by anyone willing to study the techniques. However, as soon as you make your first move from one space to another, you will obtain a soul signature. And that, milady, would put a target on your back. Anyone else who can teleport would be able to track your location while you are on this world, and a powerful magic user would be able to track you across any world or dimension."

"Well, that doesn't make sense at all."

"Why not?"

"Blumiere's father never found him when he was with me in the meadow. And you just saw him teleport back home. Why wasn't he tracked?"

Merletoph put a hand to his chin. "His signature was cloaked, though I'm not sure how… Likely a powerful mage from his tribe did it for him."

"He couldn't do that himself?"

"It is a very powerful spell. I did not think there were any mages that powerful left. The tribe's power is significantly weaker than it used to be."

"I'll have to ask him about it later," Timpani pressed, remembering the urgent matter at hand. "Is there really nothing else you can teach me that would help me?"

Again, Merletoph closed his eyes in thought. "There is nothing I can teach you… but perhaps there is something I can give you."

" _Give_ me?"

"Yes. A shield of magic. However, since you are not magically inclined yourself, I am not sure how long it will last."

Timpani stared at him. "Why didn't you mention that to begin with?"

"It might not work."

"I was going to leave without anything at all!" Timpani huffed. "And I would like to leave now, if you don't mind."

Merletoph, knowing she was too stubborn to sway, gave in. "Very well, Lady Timpani. I will use the spell on you. But please, be careful."

"Of course." She stepped closer to him, waiting for him to cast the spell. With closed eyes he folded his hands in front of him and concentrated, muttering something beneath his breath. A moment later Timpani felt a warm sensation envelop her, starting at the top of her head and making its way down to her feet. Light rotated around her in swirls and then dissipated, leaving her feeling no different than before. "Did… Did it work?"

"I... believe so." Merletoph's tone was unconvincing.

"I guess we'll see, then," Timpani started for the trees again. "I am going to find Blumiere, Merletoph. I will come see you and Mimi later."

The sage grunted. "Please, Lady Timpani—"

"I'll be careful. Don't worry." And with that, Timpani disappeared into the forest.

* * *

A hesitant silence fell over the crowd of human warriors as the dark mage emerged from the smoke, magic orb at the ready. The castle's front door did not bear even a scratch, and all previous plans of a sneak attack had been thrown out the window. At a loss of what to do, many of them anxiously inched towards the cliff's exit, now unconfident in their odds of winning this fight.

Clay, however, was not ready to back down. "What are you waiting for? Attack!" He picked up a bob-omb off of the ground, lit it, and hurled it at the looming figure, but the explosive bounced off of him and ricocheted towards another warrior, who cried out and batted it away with his sword. The air around the mage rippled.

"A barrier?" Kathleen whispered. She was half-shielding Ronan with one arm, her body rigid.

Frantically, Clay picked up another bob-omb, and still no other warrior moved to help him. Ronan, having no weapon, was unable to attack or defend himself; he tried to inch further behind Kathleen, hoping to remove himself from the mage's line of sight.

But he could not move his feet. In a panic he tried to lift each one off of the ground, but they were stuck fast. Hysteric chattering from the other warriors told Ronan he was not the only one in such a predicament. Further examination of the ground around his feet revealed that the grass was glowing softly, rippling in subtle lines. The dark mage stepped towards Clay, unaffected by the spell. Each step set off circular ripples, as if he were walking on water.

As the warrior leader prepared to throw his bob-omb, the mage disappeared suddenly, coming back into view right behind Clay. He grabbed Clay's wrist, causing him to drop the unlit bob-omb onto the ground. It stuck into place, frozen like the crowd of humans.

"Humans!" the mage boomed. "Your kind is not welcome here!"

Clay struggled and yelled. Despite the fact that this was the man who forced him to fight, Ronan longed to help him in some way. Above him, Kathleen covered her mouth to hold back a cry of terror.

"It seems you are slow to learn." the purple-caped mage twisted Clay's wrist, eliciting more yelling. "May this be an example to you."

He dug his thumb into Clay's wrist and immediately the man began to spasm, gagging and screaming. His eyes widened and his back arched as he tried to escape the pain that was ravaging his body. A gargled choking sound took place of the screaming and Clay spat blood, doubling over and going limp, only held up by the wrist the mage was grasping. Then the commotion halted abruptly, and Clay's body crumbled, blackened, completely unrecognizable. Pieces of him lay like ashes on the ground.

Ronan whimpered and allowed Kathleen to pull him closer to her. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the terrible image to leave his mind.

"I trust you will not come back," the mage said before teleporting away, leaving the stunned group of warriors behind.

As soon as he disappeared Ronan felt his feet relax as they were released from the ground. Kathleen took his hand and pulled him toward the castle's gate, holding her sword in front of her as a shield. Other warriors followed them closely, but were cut off by another mage, who appeared right behind Kathleen. They made it behind the gate just in time and, without looking back, they fled the battlefield.

"We're alright," Kathleen gasped, "It'll be alright, we made it." Ronan noticed that she was blinking rapidly, likely trying to hold back tears.

"I-is… Did he… die?" Ronan stuttered, asking only for confirmation.

"Don't be worryin' about that lad. We made it okay and that's all that matters."

Not a moment after she spoke, a young man vaulted over the short cliff above them and landed in front of them, magic orb in hand.

Kathleen staggered backward but remained firm. Stepping in front of Ronan, she readied her sword and prepared for battle.

* * *

As Blumiere approached his brothers, he surveyed the battle. There were only about 15 humans that he could see, three of whom were attacking Henri and Dorian with swords. His Aunt Lucienne was holding her own against a group of five humans, and his oldest brother Abany was attacking three more near the gate. In front of the castle doors, Perrin and Arabelle, siblings, were tag-teaming to take down the remainder of the rogue group.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blumiere saw his closest brother, Rene, hurtle over the cliff and onto the pathway below, likely to stop some humans who were trying to escape.

He shuddered and reluctantly pressed his thumb and forefinger together, feeling the familiar ache of the blood clotting in his fingertips, mixing with magic to create a projectile orb he could throw at any attackers.

But he didn't want to attack anyone. He wanted desperately for this age-old feud to end, for all of his Tribe's misdeeds to be erased, forgotten. It was a foolish aspiration, he knew, but in this moment it was something he wanted more than anything else.

 _To be able to see Timpani without worrying about being caught…_ His heart ached to think of her. Where was she right now? He prayed to the Ancients that she was still with Merletoph, safe and away from this mess.

"Blumiere, watch out!" He tensed and stepped backward as Dorian intercepted a sword that was swinging his way. The human wielding it cried out and grabbed at his arm, clutching where Dorian's magic orb had hit.

"Quit daydreaming and fight!" his brother hissed, turning to fight another human who was gaining the confidence to strike.

Blumiere turned back to the injured man, who had fallen to one knee. He felt sick to his stomach, seeing what his Tribe was capable of. And this was not even the full extent of their power.

 _If father was able to call upon the Dark Prognosticus, none of these humans would be standing right now._ His father didn't even have access to the spells written within the tome's pages. In fact, the extent of Basile's magical abilities were only a few steps above Blumiere's. He knew some higher level spells, and his attacks were much stronger.

His eyes glazed. _I wonder if Father can cloak soul signatures…_

"Hey," before Blumiere could ponder that thought, the human kneeling in front of him spoke up. "Why don't you… finish me off already…?" The man's arm had started to deteriorate, and blood was bubbling at the corner of his mouth.

Blumiere glanced upward. Their eyes met. Immediately recognition filled the human's expression.

"H-hey, you're the one from the—URK!"

The man slumped forward, dead, a blackened hole carved out of his chest. Blumiere took in a shaky breath and withdrew his outstretched hand, realizing what he'd done.

He turned and ran, ignoring Dorian's surprised exclamation. Entering the courtyard, Blumiere rounded the corner and reached the back of the castle, where the chapel stood, its white granite walls standing out in a great contrast to the castle's dark obsidian. He hadn't gotten very far before he realized another human was following him. This one wasn't injured, save for a small scrape above their eye, but that wasn't something that could have been caused by magic.

What Blumiere immediately took notice of, however, was that the man was carrying a torch. It was a long metal pole with a spear on one end and a cone on the other end that held the flame. In the other hand he held a short sword, which Blumiere hoped would be his weapon of choice.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're still alive."

 _What?_ It took Blumiere a moment to recognize the man as the leader of the fire dancers. He was the one who had nearly taken his life last night.

"I thought that monster finished you off. How did you manage to escape, hmm?"

Blumiere tensed as the man vaulted forward, swinging his sword in his direction. In his hand he had readied another magic orb, and he released it in the man's direction in hopes of defending himself. Both men stepped backward, unscathed.

"You made a grave mistake in trying to attack us last night. And on the night of the festival?" He chuckled and shook his head. "This time I will not fail, demon. I will make sure you never torment our town again."

"I never tormented you!" Blumiere exclaimed, "I did nothing to harm you!" He closed his fist, allowing the orb in his hand to dissolve and fall to the ground. "And I will not harm you. Our Tribe is not as evil as you think it is."

Torch blazing, the man leapt forward once more, aiming for Blumiere's head with the tip of the flaming weapon. "I just watched you murder Elijah! I have no doubt that you intend to harm me!"

 _He was going to die anyway!_ This excuse did nothing to lessen the guilt Blumiere felt on the matter, and he knew it would not suffice in stopping his attacker. He sidestepped, the heat from the flames barely singing his hair. Panic overwhelmed him and he veered away, running back toward the battlefield.

The man was faster. He easily surpassed Blumiere and swiped his sword in front of his path. He ducked, rolling to one side and scrambling to his feet once more.

 _I've got to disarm him!_ If he wasn't going to attack, Blumiere needed to make sure the human couldn't harm him.

Lunging for the man, Blumiere waited for him to swing a weapon in self-defense. The torch came flying his way; Blumiere made a grab for the hand that was holding it. Only a brief moment of contact was needed for him to administer his spell.

The man's body froze mid-attack, but Blumiere was too late to stop the flame from colliding with him. A portion of his cape caught fire. He unclipped it and threw it to the ground, singeing his left hand in the process. He bit back a cry of pain and seized the torch from the man's hand.

Before he could take the sword, the warrior broke free from the spell and aimed a vicious blow at Blumiere. He raised the pole of the torch and deflected it.

Again Blumiere pleaded, "Put down your weapon! I don't want to harm you!" But the man attacked with full force, leaving Blumiere with no choice.

Over and over again the weapons clashed, metal clanging against metal. The warrior attacked and Blumiere defended, but the blue-faced man was quickly running out of strength. He was not suited to this style of fighting, and the intruder's hobby of fire dancing seemed to have trained him in diligence, agility, and perseverance.

A powerful blow finally knocked the torch out of Blumiere's hand. Thrown off-balance, he stumbled and took a hit to his left bicep. The man kicked Blumiere's feet out from under him and he toppled onto his back with a _thud_.

An anguished cry filled the air as Blumiere clutched his injured arm. Blood oozed from the wound, spilling onto the grass and staining his shirt dark crimson.

"Now _die_ , demon." the man had retrieved the torch and was pointing it at Blumiere's chest, inching it closer and closer each second. "Let the Queen of the Afterlife know that Gargamel sent you—"

Blumiere dared to look up from his cowering state to see why the man had stopped—and gasped.

Gargamel was frozen in midair, choking and gagging. His face was a white-pale color, unnatural even for a human. Eyes bulging, he gasped and stared at Blumiere, as if begging for help.

Aldrik materialized behind the torch-wielding warrior, suspending him with a magical spell. With a snap of his fingers, Aldrik set the hems of Gargamel's clothes on fire.

Scrambling to his feet, Blumiere shouted over the hysterical screaming of Gargamel. "Uncle, stop! Killing the humans will only make things worse!"

The warrior continued to writhe, the flames cutting into his flesh now. "He was going to kill _you_ , Blumiere. Vermin as such do not deserve to live long enough to attack again."

"He wouldn't have attacked in the first place if…" Blumiere's retort died in his throat. If he hadn't been seen during the festival, none of the humans would have attacked at all. This was all his fault.

By now there was no saving Gargamel. His hoarse cries had shriveled up with the rest of his body, and the smell of burning flesh was so overwhelming Blumiere thought he might gag. Gargamel. Elijah. Both of these men had died because of him, and all of the humans that were going to die during this battle were here on his account.

Gargamel's ashes floated to the ground. Aldrik placed a hand on his grieving nephew's shoulder and said, "Come with me, Blumiere."

* * *

"We were just leavin' sir," Kathleen said, quiet but firm. Her sword was aimed steadily at the mage who was blocking their path. Ronan admired her courage. "If you let us pass, we won't be comin' back."

The mage uttered a low, sinister chuckle. "Nice try, human. But if you wanted to make it home in one piece, you shouldn't have come in the first place."

Kathleen gritted her teeth. Ronan knew what words she was struggling to contain, so he said them for her.

"We didn't want teh come! We were forced!"

The mage tilted his head to the side, seeming to notice Ronan for the first time. "And why would they force a child to fight?"

Ronan glanced at Kathleen. He'd been wondering himself for a while; the men had come in looking for his father, but besides the fact that they suspected he had something to do with Blumiere's arrival at the festival, they didn't really have a reason to make him fight in his father's stead. He'd been no help at all so far.

"Because we're immigrants," Kathleen snapped. "And the townspeople don't want anythin' to do with us. They forced us to live outside of their town, and now they're forcin' us to fight."

Ronan's grandmother had never given reason for the location of their home. And the people in town didn't treat him like an outsider. But now he realized that his family and Kathleen had been cast aside from the very beginning.

Just like the Tribe of Darkness.

He watched the mage carefully. The blue-tinted face remained stoic, but there was something in his eyes, if only for a moment, that Ronan recognized as sympathy. A few seconds passed before he replied.

"Whether or not you belong to this world doesn't matter. You are a human. And I have orders to kill _any_ human on castle grounds." Without any more hesitation, the mage released the magic orb he held in Kathleen's direction.

The red-headed warrior sliced it with a well-aimed sword strike, causing the projectile to splatter onto the grassy earth. Then, jumping in front of Ronan, Kathleen advanced a few steps in order to make an attack of her own. But the mage had another orb ready, so Kathleen was forced to swing at that in order to protect herself. She swung the sword over her head, split the orb, and then lunged straight for the blue-faced man, managing to hit him right in the side.

The mage fell to one knee, gasping, and on the way down he made a grab for Kathleen's empty hand. Ronan watched with confusion; why was he leaving himself open for attack? But all things were made clear when, as soon as the man touched her skin, Kathleen froze solid.

"Hey, wait—" Without thinking, Ronan stepped forward to intervene. But before he could do anything, the mage switched his grip on Kathleen's wrist, and suddenly she jolted out of her immobilized state. She staggered backward, crying out in pain.

"What did you _do_ to me?" Kathleen was struggling to stay on her feet, but the mage wasn't doing much better himself. Dark crimson blood was flowing from the wound in his side, and he clutching at it, moaning. He didn't answer Kathleen.

Ronan fretted by her side. "What 'appened?" He pressed closer to her, trying to help her stand. Then he noticed the dark blue veins on her arm, near the wrist the mage had grabbed.

"We 'ave teh go," Kathleen gasped, trying to push Ronan further down the hill. Ronan nodded and helped her go as fast as she could. After they passed the injured mage, Kathleen seemed to gain more strength. But the marks on her arms were spreading, and had by now reached her shoulder.

"We can make it," Ronan cried, pleading rather than encouraging Kathleen. His heart was beating at a ferocious speed, and with each step he looked back to see if the mage would get up and follow them. At last they rounded the first corner of the descending pathway, and he was filled with relief. Kathleen was able to pick up the pace again, and in no time they'd passed the second corner. The gate was in sight.

Their hope and courage was snuffed out in one single moment as the air in front of them rippled, signaling a dimensional traveler. The injured mage from before appeared before them, on his feet again. Immediately he threw a magic orb at Kathleen. Unable to defend herself in time, the crackling ball struck her right in the stomach, and she collapsed, nearly taking Ronan down with her.

"Kathleen!" Ronan clung to her arm. She coughed, struggling to breathe.

"R...run...," she managed, gasping for air. As she coughed again, flecks of blood painted the grass.

Tears were stinging Ronan's eyes. He couldn't leave her! She was supposed to bring him back home! But he didn't have much time to make a choice. The mage was still standing in front of him, staring at him with glazed eyes.

"Please, help her," Ronan whimpered. He knew his plea was in vain, but he couldn't run now. And Kathleen's grip on his hand was loosening. The sword was lying at his feet, and as he glanced at it, he wondered if he would be able to defend himself with it.

"Human vermin," the mage spat. He'd followed Ronan's gaze and scowled. Without another word, he aimed an orb at Ronan's chest. It hit its mark and, as Ronan yowled and slumped forward, the mage teleported away, leaving behind two motionless figures.


	14. Rift Chapter One

**_Remember_ **

Episode Five: Rift 

Chapter One 

_She paced the wooden floor of the small house, glancing every so often at the window that offered a view of the snow-covered meadow outside. She studied every sign of movement, hoping that every swaying blade of grass or rustling leaf would be him, coming at last to meet her._

_A small bundle was clutched to her chest, wrapped in a crocheted white blanket. When she wasn’t looking out the window she was gazing at the bundle with concern in her yellow eyes. A pair of mismatched eyes stared back at her: one sunny orb that matched her own eyes, and one dull blue eye that reminded her of the one she was waiting for. Soon, he would be here and soon, they would all be safe._

_A tiny, pale hand wriggled out of the blanket, connected to a swollen wrist. She sighed and touched the baby’s hand so he would grasp her finger. With her thumb, she stroked the irritated skin on his wrist. Where it was swollen the veins were visible, dark purple paint strokes that stood out against the white skin._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Her mouth wavered into a frown and she threw a glance over her shoulder toward the wall clock. The mechanism inside ticked away rhythmically, turning the ornate black hands around the wooden face of the clock. It was almost seven P.M._

_“I apologize for making you wait, Sha’i.”_

_The woman nearly jumped in surprise. The voice had come from right in front of her, but she could see only the empty living room before her._

_“Where are you?” Sha’i stepped forward and pursed her lips together. “We’re running out of time. Stop playing games, Aldrik.”_

_An invisible force began to pull the bundle out of her arms. Sha’i instinctively wrapped her arms tighter around the baby and took a few steps back. “What are you doing? Stop this, Aldrik, please, it’s almost seven!”_

_“I need him in order to do this, Sha’i. Give him to me.”_

_“Let me see your face. Why are you hiding?”_

_She felt one of his hands next to hers. Before she could shy away again, a cold finger pressed onto her wrist, and she found herself unable to move. Helpless, she could only watch as the baby was taken from her grasp. It was surreal, watching the small bundle hover through the air and come to a halt a few paces in front of her. But then a figure materialized behind the blanketed bundle, holding it in muscular, blue-skinned arms. Sha’i met his intense gaze and gasped._

_“Yo...ur…_ eyes _…” she rasped, barely able to move her mouth. A chasm opened in her heart as she realized what this meant._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_The cracks grew deeper and wider every time the gears in the clock moved the hands one notch forward, until her heart had completely shattered. In her frozen state, she could only cry._

_Aldrik did not say a word. He held the child’s purple-veined wrist between his thumb and forefinger, watching the clock intently for the moment it struck seven P.M. Three seconds… Two seconds… One second… When the minute hand clicked into place, a perfectly vertical line, the baby wailed and thrashed about in the blanket. But Aldrik held his wrist, keeping him from falling to the floor as the cloaking spell was administered to his bloodstream._

_By the time Aldrik was finished, the freezing spell on Sha’i had worn off and she crumpled weakly to her knees, glaring up at her husband._

_Glowing red eyes met hers, glazed over as if he were in a trance._

_“You… promised…” Sha’i sobbed, trying to get to her feet. “You promised you’d… never touch… that book again!”_

_“I didn’t have to.”_

_Sha’i was taken aback by the voice coming out of Aldrik’s mouth. Something wasn’t quite right about it, as if there was something darker behind his tone, speaking in time with him._

_“What...do you mean?”_

_“The Voice allows me to stay in contact with the Dark Prognosticus even while it is not in my possession.” A terrible grin split his face. “You thought I’d be safe if I didn’t touch it. Isn’t that right? Aha ha ha ha… This entire time, you thought I was free from the Voice, didn’t you? You thought I really loved you! Didn’t you?!” His voice was brimming with madness. “Well, my dear, it seems there is only one thing you are good for...”_

_“Wh-why?”_

“...producing an heir.”

_“Why?! Why are you doing this?!” Sha’i stood up at last, tears still streaming down her face. “We were going to escape together! Tonight, we were finally going to be s-safe…” her voice faltered. “But this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”_

_Aldrik chuckled deeply. “I cannot take credit for this. But I commend the planning of the Voice. It’s been guiding me all along. And now that I have a child who can carry out the Dark Prognosticus’ prophecies, I have no use for you anymore.”_

_“You can’t have him!” Sha’i lunged for the boy, trying desperately to steal him from Aldrik’s grasp. But he was too quick, and in an instant Sha’i found herself frozen again._

_“You told your father you were leaving tonight, correct?”_

_Sha’i sobbed._

_“Then he shouldn’t miss you. I imagine you’ve already said goodbye. I know we had planned to go to The Gateway together tonight, but I think you’ll have just as much fun there on your own. And don’t plan on coming back.”_

_Sha’i was unable to object as Aldrik took her hand. It was a gentle gesture, and for a moment nothing happened. She couldn’t turn her head, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed a faint blue light._

_“Goodbye, Sha’i.” He hesitated._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_And then she was gone._

* * *

 

By the time Timpani reached the town square, she was gasping for breath. In the dim morning light she could see people scrambling about, moving away from the cliff base where the explosion had come from. Moving against the tide, she waded her way through the crowd and worked determinedly towards the black gate that divided her world and Blumiere’s.

Reaching the intricate entryway, Timpani placed a hand on it and paused for a moment to catch her breath. Not only was she tired due to the run from Merletoph’s house, but she also hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours.

A strangled cry sounded out from somewhere behind the gate, startling Timpani. It was close, and sounded vaguely familiar.

Without taking a second to think things through, the caramel-haired woman threw open the gate and leapt inside, ready to face whatever perpetrator was beyond it.

Timpani was met only by the sight of two motionless bodies. She recognized the first immediately.

“Ronan!” Timpani quickened her pace, flying to his side and kneeling next to him. He was slumped over the body of a girl in a long green dress who looked a bit younger than Timpani. Her braided auburn hair was frizzled and dirty, and Timpani noticed her entire right arm was covered in dark blue-violet veins. Ronan sported a nasty wound on his chest. It was a blackened spot that almost looked like a burn, except it formed a perfect circle, right over his heart.

Both Ronan and the girl were unresponsive, but after a quick test she was able to find a faint pulse in the girl. Ronan’s heart was still beating normally, which Timpani found to be both relieving and a little odd.

Her fingers neared the blackened circle on his chest. It was no doubt caused by some sort of magic, but exactly how had it been administered? It didn’t appear to be very deep, so perhaps it had been thrown from a distance. But then what had caused the wounds on the woman’s arm? Timpani didn’t even know if she could call it a wound. It was more like…something that was harming her from the inside.

Turning back to Ronan, Timpani placed her hand just below his wound. Through the thin fabric of his shirt she could feel that his skin was abnormally hot, pulsing waves of heat with every heartbeat. Her own heart was beating faster. What was she to do? She needed to help them, but there was no way she could carry them both back to town, and she was already running out of time to find Blumiere.

“Ouch!” A burning sensation suddenly caught her fingertip, and she withdrew her hand from Ronan’s chest.

_The wound is spreading?!_

Timpani blinked down at the black circle, which had widened slightly in circumference. The cloth of his shirt had begun to glow red, as if it were on fire, and the ends of the fibers were slowly deteriorating.

“I wouldn’t touch it, if I were you.”

“Huh?!” Timpani looked up toward the sound of the voice—and nearly screamed. Hovering about a foot over her head was a young boy dressed entirely in purple-and-cream motley. A half-black, half-white mask covered his face and was staring at her with mismatched eyes and a crooked grin. She shuddered. Surely this boy was one of Blumiere’s tribesmates, which meant she was in trouble.

“Please,” she started, but he cut her off.

“Your worry is like that of a child who has just lost their mother,” he quipped in a smooth voice that was made unsettling by his mask. “But I can assure you, your worry is unnecessary.”

Timpani could only stare at him for a moment, taken aback by this bizarre figure. “Wh… Can you… help them?”

The grin somehow seemed to grow wider. “Aha ha ha. Of course not. I am not equipped with magic that can heal these wounds.” He observed Timpani’s crestfallen face before continuing, “However, there’s someone I know who can. Someone _you_ know.”

“Merletoph?” It didn’t take Timpani long to come up with the answer. “But how are you going to get them there?”

“Teleportation, of course!” the boy laughed. “Mere child’s play for the Master of Dimensions!”

 _And child’s play it would still be,_ Timpani thought to herself. She stared at the floating figure warily.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Not at all.”

“Too bad!” He laughed again and spun upside-down in the air. “Find a magician you can trust and you’ll be able to obtain things you never dreamed of. Or you’ll fall prey to chaos and live the rest of your life in despair, aha ha.”

“I—”

“Oh, but you’ve already got a magician you can trust, haven’t you?”

Timpani’s blood ran cold.

“I would hurry, milady. I’m not sure how much longer Blumiere will last up there.”

She was on her feet in an instant. “What do you mean?! Is he alright?”

The boy only shrugged. “Why don’t you go see for yourself? I will take care of your friends, aha.”

Timpani took one step up the hill and stopped. “Do you promise you’ll take them to Merletoph?”

“Absolutely.”

“I…” Timpani hesitated. “I want to trust you. I am going to bring Blumiere to Merletoph’s house, and I want to see you there. Alright?”

The grin tilted to the side slightly. “I will see you there, milady.”

Timpani nodded, “Thank you.” She turned and ran up the hill, not bothering to say anything else. When she’d reached the next level of the slope she peered down through the trees. All three bodies were gone. Momentarily she felt like a fool for trusting someone she’d only just met, and especially someone as odd as that boy, but she didn’t have any other choice if she wanted to get to Blumiere. That was, of course, assuming the boy was telling the truth about Blumiere being in danger.

At last she reached the top of the trail. She paused at the twisted fence and listened for any sounds of battle, but the air was eerily quiet. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of rain, and for the first time noticed dark clouds spotting the sky. Hands shaking, she ventured onward.

The second black gate that led to the castle’s front yard was opened already, and just beyond it was another body in a crumpled heap on the ground. Timpani covered her mouth with her hand and stepped closer.

This man was beyond saving. There was a circular wound on his back similar to Ronan’s, except the blackened area had burrowed deep into his skin, eating away at his flesh and leaving his bones exposed. Timpani had to look away. Images of Ronan’s small body deteriorating like this man surfaced in her mind, and she shook her head rapidly in attempt to clear them.

 _He will be fine,_ she muttered to herself. _That boy will save him._

She did her best to believe her own thoughts and pressed onward towards the castle.

Several more human bodies littered the grass, most of them people Timpani knew. She kept her mouth covered and avoided looking at them. Searching for any sign of movement, Timpani walked along the edge of the cliff, hoping to find Blumiere. But there was no one, not even another mage. Had the battle ended so quickly?

Suddenly, something struck her back with such tremendous force that she was flung forward onto the grass. She slid about a meter and rolled over, groaning in pain. Her whole body tingled, and when she opened her eyes she saw faint glowing spirals circling around her.

The second thing she noticed was the tall, blue-faced man standing over her, a mixture of confusion and anger in his dark eyes.

* * *

 

Three figures appeared simultaneously in the middle of Merletoph’s living room. Dimentio, crouching in between two inert bodies, observed the old man’s back without making a sound.

Merletoph was tinkering with some gears on a counter near the table Mimi had been on earlier that morning. Dimentio reckoned the girl was still in bed. All the better. He needed to speak to the sage privately.

But therein lied the problem; he had no idea what to say. In any other situation, conversation flowed from the boy’s mouth as smooth as a river running down a hill, but now… This was different.

Should he start by introducing himself? He recalled the conversation between Merletoph and Blumiere. One comment in particular surfaced in his mind.

_“Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side.”_

Merletoph considered his own daughter a fool for marrying a member of the Tribe of Darkness. Dimentio couldn’t imagine what he’d think of _him_.

So starting with an introduction was out of the question. That would come… later. Perhaps, then…?

At that moment, Merletoph turned around and, startled, stared directly at Dimentio.

“Ah, hello.” On the spot now, Dimentio allowed himself to say whatever came to mind, as he usually did. “How fortunate of me to come by your house. Perhaps you could assist me?”

Merletoph stepped closer to the magician, his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but only a gasp escaped as his gaze shifted from Dimentio to the boy on the floor. “Ronan?!” Again he stared at Dimentio. “What happened?!”

“They got caught up in the war,” Dimentio did his best impression of a sympathetic tone, although he was sure it would be lost through the static smile of his mask. “Those monsters have begun to involve the women and children, too.”

Merletoph wasted no time in checking Ronan’s wounds. Then he stood and examined Kathleen as well. “Now who is she..?” he wondered aloud.

Dimentio didn’t answer, partially because he didn’t know either, and partially because he knew the question would be directed at him next if he said anything.

“And who are you, boy?”

“I am Dimentio,” he replied, pursing his lips together beneath his mask. He chose to omit the rest of his scripted introduction and leave it at that.

“Sit down, Dimentio,” Merletoph commanded. Not expecting such a forceful request, Dimentio immediately hopped over Kathleen and onto the couch, pushing away the rebellious comments that were sitting on his tongue. He would have to behave if he wanted information out of this old man.

“I will do what I can to heal these people, but while I do that, I would like you to answer some questions for me.”

Dimentio now found himself in a position he hadn’t predicted. He’d recited numerous conversations in his head in order to prepare himself for his encounter with his grandfather, but in all of them _he’d_ been the one initiating the questions.

“You are a member of the Tribe of Darkness, I presume?”

“No.” Dimentio’s answer was quick and firm. Despite living near them all of his life, he did not consider himself a part of the Tribe.

Merletoph had removed Ronan’s shirt so he could access the wound and was casting a glowing spell onto it with his hand. Dimentio watched intently as the boy’s skin cells turned from black to tan one by one, slowly mending the damage the dark magic had done. The young magician put his hands behind his back and leaned on them.

“Where did you obtain your magic?” was Merletoph’s next question.

“I was born with it.”

“Who were your parents?”

Dimentio bit his tongue. It was too soon to tell the truth. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet. And he was beginning to think that Merletoph might turn him away as soon as he figured out who he really was.

“Both of my parents were magicians, and they decided they didn’t want me. So they sent me away to a different world, aha ha.”

“Why don’t you take off that mask of yours, boy?”

Dimentio instinctively pressed himself further into the couch, but before he could say anything, he felt something brush against his foot. The woman at his feet had rolled over, and all at once she began to moan loudly. Now that she was on her back, her damaged arm was in full view, and a wound on her stomach similar to Ronan’s was revealed.

“Gracious stars above!” Merletoph uttered, momentarily leaving Ronan’s side. As he began to remove Kathleen’s dress, Dimentio averted his eyes and watched as the significantly smaller wound on Ronan’s chest started to expand again. He closed his hands into fists behind his back and wondered if he’d have the heart to heal that boy if it were in his power to do so. He did not reach a conclusion.

Dimentio did not respond to Merletoph’s question and so, barring the pained cries of the woman on the floor, they sat in silence while the sage worked. The magician’s eyes did not wander from the ever-expanding abrasion over Ronan’s heart. An idea struck him.

Levitating over Merletoph and Kathleen, he crouched beside the orange-haired boy and placed his fingers near the wound. He could feel the heat radiating from it, but he could also sense the darkness pulsing from the bits of magic that were left behind. That magic was what was causing the fiery affliction to spread, and the same magic was inside of him, too. He could feel something within him calling out to connect to the dark spell on Ronan’s body, and as the foreign boy’s heart pounded beneath his fingertips, the beating of Dimentio’s own heart roared in his ears.

Before he knew what was happening, a bolt of pain shot up his arm and into his chest. The force of the pain was so great that he toppled over backwards, gritting his teeth to hold back a cry of agony. Clutching at the space over his heart, Dimentio forced himself to get back up.

“What did you just do?!”

He ignored Merletoph’s incredulous inquiry and returned to Ronan’s side. Just as he’d suspected, the dark magic had now completely left the boy’s wound. It had stopped spreading, and the ruptured skin had begun to ooze red and white instead of black. An odd sensation rose inside of him, pushing through his pain. A real smile appeared behind his mask.

Merletoph still eyed him with suspicion, disregarding the fact that Dimentio had just healed the orange-haired boy.

“You _are_ from the Tribe of Darkness, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Merletoph narrowed his eyes. “Take off your mask then, boy, and let us see.”

“Shouldn’t you heal that girl first?” Buying for time, Dimentio laced his tone with concern.

The sage nodded without hesitation, but he took ahold of Dimentio’s arm and pulled him to Kathleen’s side. “Why don’t you help me, Dimentio? Take care of the wound on her stomach, and I’ll see what I can do about her arm.”

Getting the impression that he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he shrugged his shoulders and focused on the small abrasion, careful to keep his eyes from wandering. Just like the previous wound, Dimentio could feel the darkness inside of it tugging at him, and it didn’t take him long to absorb this darkness, too. This time his stomach was afflicted with pain, and as he doubled over and grunted, he felt a hand on his back.

“Well done, Dimentio.”

He twisted his neck so he could look up at Merletoph from his position. “What?”

“I said, ‘well done.’ You did good work, Dimentio. I am pleasantly surprised.”

Dimentio did not respond. He had no idea _how_ to respond to something like that. Well done? What did that even mean? Merletoph was ‘pleasantly surprised’? What was he expecting out of him?

And then, while Dimentio was too stunned to object, Merletoph removed the mask from his face.

Immediately, the magician sprang back, covering his face with his hands. “Give that back!” he cried, his voice muffled.

Merletoph stood, mask in hand, and approached the now levitating boy. The glimpse of Dimentio’s face he’d seen was enough to tell him the truth. With gentle hands he took hold of his gloved wrists and guided them away from his face, finding it easy to overpower the young boy. He was met with a heterochromatic glare and a harsh frown that was so unlike the mask tucked under Merletoph’s arm. Long, dark brown hair poked out from underneath the motley hat and fell onto pale white skin.

“You’re Sha’i’s son.” Merletoph whispered. A smile grew on his face. “And look at you. You look so much like her.”

“I am an abomination,” Dimentio recited. “I look nothing like her.”

The sage moved one of his hands to the side of Dimentio’s face, causing him to shy away. “You have the same light in your eyes, the same beautiful hair.”

“That’s not true! She left because she cou— she couldn’t bear—“ his face twitched with the strain of holding back his emotions.

Merletoph’s countenance fell. “She left? She’s not with you?”

“Of course not. She was afraid of me, after all. A-aha.” And then Dimentio realized what Merletoph meant by his words. “Then...you don’t know where she is, either...”

“She left about seven years ago with your father… at least, that’s what she said.”

At last he’d reached the conclusion. The answer to the question he’d intended to ask all along. And it was the answer he’d dreaded the most.

Merletoph had no new information about his mother. In fact, he knew less than Dimentio did. He’d prepared for this revelation, but the suddenness of it took the boy off guard. He closed his eyes, longing for the safety of his mask to cover his emotions.

“My father never left,” Dimentio whispered. “Mother left by herself. She must have lied to you.”

“Sha’i is wandering through dimensions…Alone…” Merletoph muttered.

“And she’s not coming back because she never wants to see her monster of a son again. Ahaha. She was glad to be rid of me.”

Merletoph laughed softly and Dimentio opened his eyes slightly to stare at him. “My dear boy, I can say without a doubt that, if your mother were to see you again, she would be very proud of you.”

_Proud…_

Dimentio closed his eyes again and shook his head. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t lost to the darkness yet. There is still time for you to decide.”

His yellow eye opened inquisitively. “Decide what?”

“Your path. Darkness or Light. Because of your lineage, both forces fight against each other, hoping to claim you. If you wanted to, you could banish the darkness inside of you and turn to a path of light, like your mother. Or, you could stay on your current path and walk in darkness like your father. It is your decision alone.” He freed Dimentio from his grasp and the boy hovered backwards a few centimeters, staring down at the ground.

 _What a ridiculous notion,_ Dimentio thought, _that I could be anything but a child of Darkness like my father, especially if I’ll never be able to find my mother._ He shook his head but said nothing, and tried to keep his face as emotionless as he could.

“Of course, you don’t have to decide now, Dimentio.” Merletoph offered the magician his mask. He eagerly took it and refastened it to his hat, grateful for the protection it offered. Now shadowed by an ever-present grin, his eyebrows arched and a frown trembled on his lips, harboring the cries of sorrow that sat in his aching stomach.

“However, I would like it if you stayed a little longer. I may need more help healing these two.”

Dimentio wasn’t expecting the warm hand that grasped his shoulder.

“And, I would like to get to know my grandson.”


	15. Rift Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on Fanfiction on June 29, 2017. I must have forgotten to post it here.

_**Remember** _

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter Two

It had been about an hour since Dimentio first arrived at his grandfather's home. He'd come intending to gather information from the old sage, but he'd come out of the confrontation with less information, more confusion, and a decision to make.

So here he sat in Merletoph's bedroom, struggling to organize his thoughts while he watched over the two inert bodies he'd saved. The boy called Ronan was lying on a blanket on the floor, next to a glass window that was pitter-pattering with rain. The anonymous woman was in Merletoph's bed, shifting and groaning in a restless state of semi-consciousness. Dimentio was curled up in a cushioned chair next to an elaborate desk, knees pulled to his chest. He mulled over what Merletoph had told him, starting over and over again from the simple phrase, 'darkness or light?'

_I'll never be anything less than a dark mage like my father,_  was the conclusion he would reach more often than not. Then a voice would chime in,  _But would your father save those two humans? Would he go through the trouble to heal their wounds?_  And he would start over again. It was rather tiring, really.

He traced his index finger over the permanent smile on his mask, the smile that hid the scowl on his real face. Suddenly frustrated, he tore the thing from his hat and flipped it around so he could look at it.

"Half white and half black," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm nothing more than a hybrid. A mess that never should have existed in the first place." The constricting of his throat caused his voice to crackle, so he added hastily, "Aha ha."

The bedroom door creaked open, allowing Merletoph to enter. The mask was hiding Dimentio's face before his grandfather had a chance to look at him, but still the sage said, "You should leave your mask off, my boy. There's no need for it here. In fact, you could do without most of that outfit."

The mask that covered his face, the hat that covered his hair, the gloves that covered his pale hands. All of these things were meant to conceal the abnormalities that made him exactly what he was: a monster. But for some reason, Dimentio felt compelled to obey Merletoph. It was exactly as it had been when he'd first arrived here, and it was part of the reason he was still here. The other part being he intended to keep his promise to the woman who had found the two bodies, but if it was only for her, he'd have just waited outside behind a cloak of invisibility.

This fact unnerved Dimentio. The thought of feeling some sort of obedience towards anyone other than his father made him...uneasy. And yet once again he unmasked his face, placing the magic-infused porcelain on the desk. His hat and gloves followed soon after.

Merletoph merely smiled, saying nothing as he studied the likeness of his daughter in his grandson's face. It was then, while averting his gaze in discomfort, that Dimentio noticed Merletoph was carrying a scroll. A spell, he imagined, that would reduce the effects of the wound on the woman's arm.

Before moving both of the humans into the bedroom, Dimentio and Merletoph had finished mending the orb-wounds on the woman's stomach and on Ronan's chest. Being thoroughly stumped on how to heal the purple veins coming from the woman's right wrist, Merletoph had ordered Dimentio to teleport both of them to the bedroom while he searched for a cure.

That had been about ten minutes ago. Now, Merletoph unrolled the scroll and beckoned for Dimentio follow him to the bed where the woman was lying.

"There used to be a book with all of these spells," the sage was muttering.

"What happened to it?" Dimentio asked, cringing at the raw sound that came out of his mouth. It sounded different without the echo of it reverberating behind his mask. It seemed...more childish, perhaps.

"It was destroyed," Merletoph said, "just like most of the Tribe of Ancients."

Dimentio recognized the bluntness of his grandfather's voice as a verbal barrier. This was obviously not something he was keen on expanding upon. The magician said nothing in reply.

"Now," Merletoph continued in a lighter tone, "let us take a closer look at her arm. Dimentio, if you would, place your thumb over her wrist, where the lines are closest together."

"Me?" Dimentio turned to Merletoph with wide, mismatched eyes.

"You, my boy."

"But this is a white magic spell, isn't it?"

Merletoph offered him a smile. "You are correct. But as I told you earlier, your lineage gives you the opportunity to learn both white magic, like the Ancients and blood magic, like the Tribe of Darkness. Before you decide which path best suits you, I decided it would be fair to at least show you how white magic works. Come now, I will walk you through it, step by step."

A sort of twisting feeling afflicted Dimentio's stomach. He recognized it as the feeling he got when he considered running away from his father or making himself known to other members of his father's tribe. A feeling of rebellion that was quickly followed by a list of consequences. And it was a feeling that, for the first time, he was giving into, under the authority of a man who was not his father.

He felt the pulsing heat of the woman's heartbeat before he even touched her skin. The blood magic he was most accustomed to required him to be able to sense the heartbeat within both himself and within others. In fact, if he wanted to, he could have administered the same spell that was inside the woman's bloodstream, furthering the affliction until it killed her.

_Kill her._ The voice that filled his head was his father's.  _This girl is a human. What business do you have saving her?_ The woman's blood pounded in his ears, and he felt the tip of his thumb pulsing and aching with the beginning of a spell.

"Dimentio?"

At the sound of his grandfather's voice, the young magician stumbled backward, letting the dark spell drip harmlessly from his fingers. He clutched his hand to his chest, his breathing quick and shallow.

"Dimentio? Is something the matter?" Merletoph turned to his grandson with concern in his eyes, a concern that increased exponentially once he noticed the darkness staining Dimentio's thumb and forefinger, the boy's own blood mixed with magic: an incomplete spell.

Dimentio studied the floor with wide eyes. "I-I…" he stuttered. There were no words he could say to describe what he was feeling. A mixture of fear, guilt, confusion, and through all of it the voice of his father telling him to finish the job.

"Perhaps I will teach you white magic later," Merletoph said. He did not raise his voice. He didn't even sound angry. But it did nothing to ease Dimentio's plethora of emotions. "For now, why don't you go sit in the living room? I will heal the girl's arm."

Dimentio had no intention of staying. It was nearing seven o'clock anyway, when he would have to return home to have his signature cloaked. It vaguely occurred to him that he'd not seen Timpani yet, and he'd promised to see her here, but he figured if she decided to come at all she would be able to see that her human friends made it safely. Without another glance at his grandfather, he teleported away, back to his place on the top of the tribe's castle.

* * *

" _What?!_ "

The exclamation that came from Basile was more confused than angry. He looked down at his hand and then up at the young woman in front of him who was lying on the ground, unscathed. She was a pale human girl who didn't seem prepared for battle, but a human she still was, and so Basile had decided to put an end to her.

At least, he had tried.

He shot another projectile orb at her. She cowered behind her hands and drew her knees upward, curling into a ball. But once again the orb ricocheted off of her and fizzled to the ground, melting into a harmless puddle. The force of it caused the woman to slide back a few millimeters, but ultimately she was undamaged.

Basile now allowed anger to lace his tone. "You! You're a sage, aren't you?!" He strode forward with powerful steps and seized the girl by the arm before she could scramble away. "What are you doing on this world, you wretch?!"

Crystal blue eyes stared up at him with an overwhelming defiance. "I'm not a sage!" she barked, "let me go!"

"A foolish lie, girl. This is white magic protecting you!"

Struggling, she kicked out at his legs, falling silent for a moment. To Basile, it seemed as though she were thinking her words over carefully. A sign that she was trying to come up with a more convincing lie.

He gave her three seconds before he threw her to the ground and kicked her, watching with satisfaction as she rolled over the grass. As he stepped toward her again, a raindrop splattered onto his forehead, followed immediately by another that hit his hand. A light drizzle skipped onto the grass.

"Your white magic won't protect you from physical attacks," Basile grinned. As the woman struggled to her feet, he added, "Come now, sage. Why aren't you defending yourself?"

"I am  _not_  a sage!" she cried. "I haven't come to fight you!"

"Then why are you here?" Basile advanced as she backed away. "If you were a human, you would be armed with a weapon, and even then you would have come wishing to fight."

"I'm just looking for someone, please, leave me alone!"

"All of the humans who came have died, girl." By now, Basile had backed the woman up to the edge of the cliff. "And if it weren't for that blasted shield, you would be dead, too!"

Once again, a blue fire of determination lit her eyes. "I know he's alive! He has to be!"

Basile stopped dead in his tracks. He narrowed his cerulean eyes as he came to a sudden realization.

"You filthy wretch. You know my son, don't you?"

* * *

Blumiere and Aldrik teleported into the octagonal tower in the northeast corner of the castle, the location of the prince's bedroom. Blumiere collapsed onto his bed as soon as they arrived, wide-eyed.

"I need to speak with you urgently, Blumiere," Aldrik was saying. "Your father is going to come find us any minute. He knows our signatures have been cloaked, and he's grown suspicious—"

"They're all dead," Blumiere muttered, leaning forward slowly until his head rested in his hands. "I never wanted to kill them. But they're all dead now. Because of me."

Aldrik stared at him. "Blumiere, are you listening to me?"

"What if Timpani had been there? Oh, she probably knew some of them…"

"Blumiere!" Aldrik took hold of his nephew's arm and hauled him to his feet. Recoiling immediately, Blumiere cried out in pain and clutched at his left bicep. Blood was still seeping out of the blade wound he'd received before Aldrik had saved him.

"You're wounded?" Momentarily Aldrik examined the cut on the prince's arm. "Oh, Blumiere. You could have prevented this."

_I deserve more than that._  Blumiere bit back his reply. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear his thoughts, realizing that he wasn't doing anyone any good by feeling sorry for himself.

"I will have it fixed up later," the prince sighed, placing a hand over the wound. The pain had brought him back to reality. "Now, what was it you were saying, uncle?"

"Your father is going to need a reason as to why your signature is cloaked."

At these words, Blumiere suddenly recalled what his father had said earlier that morning, at the beginning of the battle: " _And I will need a word with you, too, Blumiere. I'd like to have a talk with the both of you, actually."_

His stomach churned. "I...I don't know what to tell him!" with exasperation he looked to Aldrik. "What are  _you_  going to tell him?"

"Do not worry about that, Blumiere. I have managed in the past."

Blumiere couldn't help but think about what his uncle meant by that, but decided he'd chalk it up to Aldrik's odd behavior as of late. Walking over to his window, Blumiere stared blankly at the glass. It was just starting to rain, and as he watched each drop hit the windowpane, Blumiere wracked his brain for a viable excuse—

"Mother!"

—and didn't have to search very far.

"I'll tell him I wanted to visit mother's grave." Half of him screamed that Basile would never buy it, but for now, it was the best idea he had.

Aldrik chuckled. "Ah, the same excuse you used on me after the first time you visited the humans. That should work. For now, anyway."

"What am I going to do, Aldrik?" Blumiere sighed. "Father's going to be keeping a closer eye on me than ever. There's no way I'll be able to see Timpani again…"

"Things will be difficult from here on out," Aldrik mumbled, and Blumiere noted it was mostly to himself. Louder, he continued, "At any rate, it may be a few months before you're on your father's good side again…"

"I can't wait that long to see her. Not after the damage I've caused…" Blumiere clenched his teeth.  _Mimi, at least, is in good hands with Merletoph, and Ronan is hopefully safe at home with his grandmother. But Timpani…_

Aldrik hummed. "Well, it is about six-thirty now. You have until about eight-thirty, when your signature's spell will fade, to find her. That is, assuming your father doesn't come looking for you during that time."

It was a risk Blumiere was willing to take. Maybe he could arrange something with Timpani, or at least tell her that he wouldn't be able to see her for a while. And if his father went looking for him during that time, at least he could use the battle as an excuse for being out of his room. Besides, he couldn't imagine being in any more trouble than he already was.

Standing up, Blumiere managed a half-smile and met Aldrik's gaze. "Thank you, uncle. I will see you soon."

Once Blumiere had teleported away, Aldrik uttered a chuckle.

* * *

Narrowing her eyes to shield them from the raindrops, Timpani peered up at the dark mage in front of her. So this was Blumiere's father, then. She could see now why they didn't get along.

"I don't know any son of yours!" Timpani desperately threw out her response, unsure if it would help her or make things worse. All the while she kept backing away from the blue-faced man, aware that she was getting closer and closer to the cliff's edge. Her whole body ached from where he'd thrown her to the ground and kicked her, but it seemed as though the shield Merletoph gave her was slowly easing that pain. She reminded herself to express an abundance of thanks to the sage.

" _You're_  the reason he's been sneaking off into town!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Timpani stopped centimeters away from the cliff, trembling. The rain was starting to soak through her dress.

"You have no other reason to be here. All of the humans are dead. And the only other being you would be trying to find…"

With a mighty step forward, Basile placed both hands around Timpani's neck, hauling her backward until only her toes were still on the edge of the rocky cliff.

"...is Blumiere."

Timpani choked out a gasp, arching her back in a desperate struggle to keep herself standing. She felt the hands around her neck tighten in an attempt to suffocate her further, but somehow her airway remained open enough to allow her to breathe shallowly. Realizing he wasn't doing enough damage to kill her, Basile roared furiously, and a burning sensation fizzled at the back and front of Timpani's throat. She felt some sort of liquid stream down her skin.

"You  _are_  nothing more than a filthy human, aren't you!? Were you trying to seduce him? Did you hope to kill him once you were finished with him?!"

Tears leaked out of Timpani's eyes as she thrashed around, clawing at the mage's blue hands with her own.  _What a twisted view you have!_  She wanted to scream at him.  _I would never do anything like that to Blumiere!_ But in her current situation, she could manage nothing more than a hoarse gasp. She needed all of her energy to breathe.

"You're lucky I can't kill you right now, vermin. But I promise you, if I ever see your wretched face again, I will see to it that you receive an  _agony_  far worse than death."

With those haunting final words, Basile kicked Timpani's legs out from under her, sending her toppling over the edge of the cliff.

* * *

"Were you looking for me, brother?"

With black hair slicked by the drizzling rain and a devilish grin on his lips, Aldrik watched as his elder brother turned away from the cliff, surprise evident in his cerulean eyes.

"Aldrik! Where have you been all afternoon?"

The stern tone of the king only made Aldrik's grin widen. "Are you curious about the absence of my signature?"

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Basile narrowed his eyes and took a few steps toward the younger mage. "I would like to believe you've had some involvement in Blumiere's disappearances, as well."

A cold laugh filled the air. "How dreadful! Could it be that it was I who urged him to leave in the first place?"

"What are you saying!?" Basile's slow-burning anger was more noticeable in his expression than in his tone.

"Oh, and perhaps I sent him out in hopes that the humans would find him and kill him."

Deadly silence followed. Basile locked eyes with his brother; a spell already prepared in his fingertips. "You  _what?!_ "

"Well, I suppose I can't take credit for all of it. It wasn't  _entirely_  my idea."

Aldrik advanced on his older brother, who immediately expelled the dark magic he'd prepared. The spell bounced off of Aldrik, revealing a rippling magic shield. Eyes bulging, Basile took a hesitant step backward.

"I have a secret to tell you, brother," Aldrik went on. "You see, I don't take direct orders from you unless I want to. Do you know why?" He stepped closer and closer. "Because you are not my king, brother. There is only one being who I will submit to."

With a cry of utter rage and exasperation, Basile lunged forward, grappling Aldrik. With a physical strength that the younger mage couldn't match, Basile grabbed his brother's arm and twisted it around behind his back, holding it in such a way that he wouldn't be able to create a spell. Before he could secure the other hand, Aldrik uttered another chilling laugh.

"You know what I refer to, don't you, brother? The Dark Prognosticus, of course."

Basile faltered for just a moment, but that small amount of time was just enough for Aldrik to make his move. He made contact with his brother's hand and administered a freezing spell more powerful than anything Basile was capable of. Wrenching himself free, Aldrik turned around to look at the king, who was now frozen helplessly in place.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Aldrik quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your whole life you deemed yourself a king, the one who would pass on the knowledge and magical powers of this tribe to the next generation. But you were also a tragic second prince, forced to take the crown after our dear brother died. You tried so hard to call out to the Dark Prognosticus, but it would not call back. You thought yourself a failure. But really, all along, it was because it had found a more suitable host. And yet you remained as our king! Aha ha. Simply ironic. Now, tell me brother, are you surprised?"

Basile's blue eyes glared daggers at Aldrik's calm, red gaze.

"Of course you are. You always are." Reaching the next part of his monologue, Aldrik began pacing back and forth dramatically. "I have another secret to tell you, brother! Would you believe it if I told you that this isn't the first time we've had this conversation? It isn't! And it isn't the second, or the third, I'm afraid. Oh no, my dear brother, we've had this conversation countless times before! And it always ends the same way. With me, one step closer to reaching my goal, and with you, going back to being blissfully oblivious. Indeed, my dear brother, once I'm finished, you won't remember a word of this conversation! And you'll forget about my absent soul signature as well. Sure, I could have taken that memory from you without going through the trouble of telling you all this, but… well, this was much more fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Damn...you…" Basile growled with as much force as he could manage.

Aldrik laughed softly, almost sympathetically. "I'm already far more than damned, dear brother." And with that, he placed both of his thumbs over Basile's temples. "Aha ha. Don't worry. This will hurt, but you won't remember a thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter will be posted either tonight or tomorrow!


	16. Rift Chapter Three

_**Remember** _

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter Three

Soaked to the bone and feeling utterly broken, Timpani sobbed into the mud at the base of the cliff, the very place she'd discovered Blumiere's body only two days ago. Since then, she'd grown so close to the blue-skinned man that she felt their bond may exceed any she had with another human. She also hadn't slept a wink since then, and if she weren't still in the general vicinity of said blue-skinned man's father, she would have gratefully passed out right then and there, likely to be choked by the sucking mud.

For a moment she considered letting the mud swallow her up. This spell wouldn't last forever, so if she waited long enough, surely it would eventually allow her to die, never to see her aunt and uncle again. Never to see Blumiere again…

_Oh, Blumiere!_  If only he hadn't— If only she hadn't— But there were so many reasons both of them were at fault, at fault for all of this… The arousal of a hibernating hostility, and the slaughter of so many of her own people… If only they hadn't—

With a cry of exasperation, she chased those thoughts from her head. Pushing upward with her arms, she attempted to stand but, try as she may, her body just wasn't ready to allow her to get up yet. She could feel Merletoph's spell easing away at her aches, but her right leg was twisted in a way she knew wasn't natural, despite the absence of pain.

After a minute or so of fruitless struggling, Timpani gasped as she finally felt a significant amount of pain in her leg. She could also feel it  _moving_ , twisting back around until it was in a less-concerning position. It was surely the spell at work, but it was not something Timpani was prepared to handle at that moment. Gritting her teeth against the mud and clay that coated her mouth, she forced back screams as the spell reconnected muscle to bone cell by cell, mending the broken limb at a pace Timpani swore was slower than what a surgeon could manage. But about five minutes later it was done, and Timpani was finally able to struggle to her feet.

Only to meet the eyes of Blumiere.

He was still several meters away from her, and so she stood frozen, eyebrows arched over her wide crystal orbs.

_Blumiere! Oh, Blumiere…_ In that moment, the only word she could think of was his name.  _Blumiere, Blumiere, why, Blumiere?!_

Her throat constricted and sorrow came crashing over her like a storm, carrying with it a torrent of hurt and despair. Tears bubbled at the corners of her eyes, blurring the face of the man she… Of the man who was causing her such grief.

He took a step forward; she spun on her heel and ran.

* * *

It took Dimentio less than a second to realize he'd left his mask, hat, and gloves in Merletoph's house. He hovered above the shingled obsidian of the castle's roof, staring with his unobstructed eyes down at his pale hands. His long hair tickled his face as it was ruffled by the wind, and for a moment Dimentio stopped to take in these new sensations. It felt  _good_. He could see so much more without the mask obscuring his vision. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, surprised by how soft it felt on his bare fingers.

He knew he could not stay like this for long. In less than half an hour his father would be here to conceal his existence, and if he saw him like this…

_Would he even recognize me?_ His father hadn't seen his face since he was old enough to eat and levitate on his own. That was when he'd given Dimentio the magically fitted mask and the all-concealing clothes. But, it didn't matter whether or not his father would recognize him. The real problem was Aldrik's reaction to his missing mask. He would ask why Dimentio wasn't wearing it, and then ask where it had gone...which would lead unerringly to revealing the talk he'd had with Merletoph.

The obvious solution was to return to Merletoph's house and retrieve the mask himself. After the incident with the wounded woman, however, Dimentio didn't know if he could face the old man.

_Who cares what he thinks of you?_  A dark voice in his head prodded.  _If father were in your position, he would have gone back and killed the old sage._ Dimentio pushed the voice away. He knew he couldn't kill his grandfather.

And that was when he realized: he knew he  _couldn't_  be like his father. His hands shook as he was attacked by this cognizance, however, his chest was filled with an unfamiliar warmth and a smile appeared on his face.

For the entirety of his life, he'd been under the assumption that being a mage like his father was the only option he had. It wasn't that he wanted to, or even that he had a choice in the matter; before he met Merletoph, he wasn't even aware of a second 'choice.' But now Merletoph's words held meaning.

" _It is your decision alone."_

And it was clear to him now what decision he had to make.

_But how are you going to do that?_  The dark voice had returned.  _Father will never let you leave him, and besides, Merletoph is probably afraid of you, now._

Dimentio shook his head. He would figure it out. He would figure himself out, even if he needed help. And he knew there was only one person who could.

With the smile still present on his face, the conflicted magician disappeared.

The smile leveled out as he reappeared in an empty bedroom. The injured humans were still present, yes, but Merletoph was missing. After a quick search of the rest of the house (and a near run-in with the mechanical miracle Mimi), Dimentio concluded that his grandfather had vacated his home entirely. Dejected, he returned to the bedroom to retrieve his mask, hat, and gloves. He would need to return to his father whether he liked it or not. It was now even nearer to seven o'clock, and the existence of his signature would give him more problems than freedoms.

Before he could leave again, the purpled arm of the injured woman caught his eye. It still wasn't healed; in fact, it looked like it had gotten worse.

_Why isn't Merletoph healing it?_  But the scroll was gone, too. Maybe the light spell had failed?

His heart lurched as he recalled how he'd nearly ended this woman's life. She still had a fighting chance, and he'd almost taken that from her.

_If I am to choose a path of light…_

He was running out of time, but Dimentio was compelled to try something. It had worked with the other wounds on the boy and this woman, so it was worth a try for this injury as well. Once again he placed his hand on the woman's wrist, feeling the weakened heartbeat pounding through the dark sludge that was infecting her veins. If he could draw that darkness out of her and into his own body, he might be able to stop it from spreading or even heal it completely. He didn't know what effects it would have on his own body, but taking the darkness out of the other two wounds had only caused him a moment's worth of pain.

His ears roared as their heartbeats synced. A sudden jolt of fear struck him; this was his turning point the last time he'd connected with the wound. But he willed himself to keep a clear head, and to focus on his task. This time he was going to  _heal_ her.

Then, pain snaked up his arm with such ferocity that he almost pulled away from the woman. A howl that was not his own split the air and the woman shifted on the bed, causing her arm to jolt. Dimentio held on through the movement and through his own pain, which by now had reached his head and was blurring his vision. It seemed to stop there though, which was a good sign. The blood magic had not yet reached her heart.

Then, the woman jerked her arm away, and Dimentio lost the connection. An explosive agony filled his head and he collapsed on the floor, gritting his teeth. He clutched at his head, hoping it would fade like it had before.

A few minutes passed and he was still in considerable pain. He was aware that his time here was running out, so he forced himself to get to his feet. His vision was still blurred, but as he stood he could see that the woman was sitting up in the bed, holding the blanket up to her chest with her arm, which was pale and devoid of purple veins. She stared at him with mild curiosity; a bit of fear sparkled in her eyes. Dimentio could only smile weakly behind his mask, surprised that he'd managed to heal her.

The woman's lips moved but he couldn't hear her. With no time for conversation anyway, Dimentio simply nodded at her and, for the second time that morning, teleported back to the roof of the Tribe's castle.

It was a minute before seven when Aldrik arrived. It was not uncommon for him to arrive so close to the hour, but this time Dimentio detected an urgency in his father that suggested he was worried he might not make it in time. The young magician's head was still giving him trouble and he was not seeing straight, so Dimentio concluded that perhaps he was imagining things. He had no wish to converse with his father anyway, and he couldn't care less where he'd been. He wanted to get this over with so he could go search for Merletoph. He was hoping the sage might have a remedy for his pain.

" _Hands._ "

Dimentio and his father usually signed to each other when they met like this, and this time he was grateful for their nonverbal communication. He didn't think he would be able to hear his father because of the pounding in his head.

Surrendering his hands, Dimentio waited for his father to cloak his signature. As soon as Aldrik touched his wrist, however, he knew something was off. His skin was so tender he had to bite back a cry of pain, and when the cloaking spell entered his bloodstream it felt as though his body was fighting it. His vision darkened until he was completely blind and his head pounded thunderously, completely blocking out his hearing.

Aldrik released him and left without another word, as he always did. Now that he was alone, Dimentio was overwhelmed by fear. He was even losing his ability to sense his father's signature, which should have extremely powerful given he'd just teleported.

Afraid that he might soon lose his ability to teleport altogether, Dimentio hastily warped back to Merletoph's house.

* * *

"Timpani,  _why?_  Why do you avoid me?"

Blumiere wove through the trees, tripping over sticks and getting stuck in the mud as he pursued the human woman. But she was having just as much trouble, and he was catching up to her.

Worry weighed heavily on him. Why was she running away from him? And why was she here? Was she involved in the fight between his family and the humans?

_Talk to me, don't run!_  He silently pleaded. He didn't want to lose her, especially not without knowing what had happened.

He had gained enough ground to reach her now. With an outstretched hand, he grabbed her shoulder, trying to slow her down. He retracted his hand when she cried out in pain, but when she continued trying to escape him he made a gentler grab for her arm, hoping to get her to face him.

"Ow…  _ow!_ Unhand me!" Blumiere got his wish as Timpani whirled towards him with a fury in her eyes. But as soon as their gazes met, she broke down again, sobbing pitifully.

"Huh? You're crying?"

Frustrated that it had taken him this long to notice, Timpani yanked her arm away with a huff.

"Why?" Blumiere stepped closer, making sure she wouldn't try to run again. "Timpani, you must tell me what has happened!"

"It's nothing…" the woman managed in between sobs. "Don't worry about it… Just forget it…"

Blumiere reached out to her but stopped suddenly when he noticed something on Timpani's neck.  _Is that...?_ He recognized a dull stain, the blackened blood of an unfinished contact magic spell.  _So she was at the battle! And she got hit, but by who?_  A numbing thought hit him. "Oh no…" His heart pounded. "Timpani, is my father behind this?!"

That was his first guess. He didn't expect it to be and certainly hoped it wasn't right, but Timpani's sobbing grew louder and she nodded her head.

"I'm… I'm just an ordinary girl," she whispered. "A h-human…"

Blumiere didn't like where this was going. Desperate, he cried, "But that doesn't matter, remember? L-like you said, anyone with a heart would not… Timpani, I don't care if you're a human, I-I still…"

She was shaking her head. "This is goodbye, Blumiere."

Stunned, he could only stare at her in disbelief. "What…?"

"I said this is goodbye, Blumiere! We can't see each other anymore! You have to stay away from me!"

"N-no, you're wrong… It's alright—"

"It's  _not_  alright, Blumiere! We were foolish to believe we could have something of a normal relationship!"

A shattered cry came from Blumiere; it was obvious he was fighting tears. This was so unlike the Timpani he knew. "What did my father do to you…?"

It was that question that finally broke Timpani. Quivering, she fell to her knees and gave in to silent, heaving sobs. "P-please…. Le-leave…"

"No!" Blumiere knelt down next to Timpani and wrapped his arms around her, hanging on for dear life. "I won't leave you here like this, Timpani. I will keep you safe!"

"Idiot!" Timpani gasped, trying to break free. "You can do n-nothing! You are a prisoner in y-your own home!"

Unable to deny the truth, Blumiere whimpered and clung to Timpani as she struggled.

"You are pathetic and stubborn and foolish!" Timpani yelled, tears still streaming down her face. "Now let me g-go!"

She heard him breathing shakily in her ear, and as he pulled away from her she noticed that he was crying as well. He sat in the mud and did not move, even as she stood up.

"...Goodbye, Blumiere."

"Timpani, wait."

She saw the desperation in his eyes and knew what he was going to say next, the words that had been on the tip of both of their tongues for some time now.

"I love you. I love you, Timpani. Please, don't go!"

"That's  _exactly_  why I have to go!" She was furious, absolutely furious that he'd finally said it, right before she was going to put this all behind her. "I love you too, Blumiere, there's no denying that! But we are in  _danger_ , Blumiere!" Taking notice of the blood crusting the wound on his arm, Timpani continued, "See?! You're wounded! That happened during the fight, no doubt! A-and that never would have happened if we'd—"

"Timpani..."

"If we'd never met!"

"Don't say that," Blumiere's voice was pleading. "W-we can find a way…"

"Shut up!" Sadness and anger fought to take control of Timpani's voice. Fists balled, her next words came out in a hoarse yell. "Don't you understand how much I want there to be a way for us to stay together? Why can't you just let me go? Why do you have to make this harder for me? You think you can make everything better just by  _wishing_ , Blumiere, but you can't! There is  _no possible way_  we could stay together, and you are only  _torturing me_  by begging me to stay with you longer! Now let me leave! This is our goodbye, Blumiere, and this is our fate!"

She waited for a moment to see if he would say anything. He did not.

" _Goodbye,_ Blumiere."

She wanted finality. He didn't know if he could give it to her.

"You can't even give me this, can you?" the raspy whisper was such a contrast to her previous tone that Blumiere almost didn't catch it. But when he did, he looked up at her, hurt.

"You won't even let me say goodbye?!"

The tears dripped silently off of his chin. "To say goodbye is to admit that I'll never see you again."

"That would be for the  _better_ ," she spat, turning away from him. Timpani left him there in the mud, where he waited to see if she would return to him.

She disappeared without turning back once.

* * *

Dimentio appeared on the floor of Merletoph's living room, numb to the world. He wasn't even entirely sure he'd made it there properly, but he could feel carpet beneath his hands, so wherever he was, it would do until he regained his senses.

He tore the mask away from his face as nausea afflicted his stomach. A moment later he retched onto whatever was in between his hands, which he hoped was only his mask and the floor. He barely had time to take a breath before he retched again. A terrible taste filled his mouth, one he determined was a mixture of blood and dirt. If his vision wasn't still obscured, he would be able to see what was coming out of him, but for now, he could only assume he was throwing up the remainder of the contact magic spell he'd taken from the woman.

It was right before he vomited for the third time that he felt a hand on his back, rubbing gently in between his shoulders. He found it soothing, and he pressed into it, eager to feel someone else's presence near him. He picked up a soul signature that had a light quality to it; he realized it must be Merletoph's. It struck him that he'd never felt the old man's signature before, despite having searched for it. Why he was able to feel it now was a mystery he hardly had time to delve into, however, as another wave of nausea overcame him. At last, the pain in his head was easing.

The hand on his back disappeared, leaving him alone in darkness again. It soon returned and guided him to a sitting position. He leaned back against what he assumed was the couch and felt something warm touching his eyes. It wasn't until his vision brightened that he realized Merletoph was using a wet cloth to clean his face. He could see that the moistened fabric was beginning to turn black.

_That spell must have been coming out of my eyes, as well,_  he concluded.  _That would explain why I couldn't see._ He glanced at the floor and saw more of the black liquid there. His assumption was correct; this was the way his body was expelling the magic he'd absorbed from the woman. Now he could feel it clogging his ears too, and he began to rub at it with his hands. Merletoph shook his head and pushed Dimentio's hands away, insisting he clean it himself. Dimentio's hands dropped to his side as he gave in, exhausted. He allowed Merletoph to remove the gunk from his face without any further complaints.

When at last he could hear again, Merletoph's voice was the first sound to reach his ears. "You healed her, didn't you?" A broad smile brightened the sage's face. "I tried the scroll, but it only stopped the poison from spreading. I left to retrieve another one, and when I returned, she was miraculously healed, and was asking about a boy in a mask."

Dimentio, despite being slightly offended by his grandfather referring to the magic that coursed through his blood as 'poison', offered a weak smile in return. "Aha ha. I healed her."

"And it left you in such a poor condition. Were you aware of these consequences?"

The magician shook his head. "I don't think I would have done it if I knew. I'm just glad it's all out of me now." He glanced at the floor and grinned, showing off blackened teeth. "Aha. Terribly sorry about the mess."

"I am just glad you are safe." Merletoph's golden eyes glittered with an emotion that Dimentio scarcely recognized. He couldn't quite remember the word for it, but he was reminded of what he needed to tell his grandfather.

"I want you to teach me white magic," Dimentio said, his enfeebled voice now serious. "And… I want to try to find my mother, too."

It wasn't until tears welled up beneath the yellow irises that Dimentio finally placed the word. Moments later, Merletoph gave the emotion a voice. "I am so proud of you. Your mother will be, too."

_Proud…_  With that one word, Dimentio's playful facade shattered. Suddenly he melted into the eight-year-old child he was supposed to be; a child who had just turned his back on his father and made a decision that would change his life. A scared child who had never had anyone to lean on. Thousands of emotions crowded his mind; excitement, fear, uncertainty, anticipation; and as Merletoph embraced him, they all flowed out of him through his tears.

_Proud…_

He imagined his mother, kind and beautiful, smiling at him and saying those words.

" _I'm proud of you."_


	17. The Gateway Chapter One

_**Remember** _

Episode Six: The Gateway

Chapter One

_Sweat-slicked hair was swept out of tortured red eyes that glowed in the pressing darkness of the bedroom. Too afraid to wake the newly-appointed king, he scarcely drew breath as he hovered by the man's side._

_His hands, clenched into fists at his sides, were trembling, seconds away from striking out and thrashing his brother awake. But he waited, mulling over what to say when the king awoke._

" _Aldrik?" Hearing his name spoken so clearly in the thick blackness startled him; his quaking hands jolted into a defensive position. Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the crimson light._

" _What are you doing here?" King Basile's voice was tight with a weary irritation. Aldrik felt a pang of guilt; he knew the king was struggling to get enough sleep. With the recent battles between the Tribe and the humans, none of them were getting the proper amount of rest. Nonetheless, there was something that needed to be said, and now was one of the few times that they could be truly alone._

" _I...need to speak with you, brother."_

"Now _, Aldrik? It cannot wait until—?"_

" _Have you felt it yet, Basile? The Dark Prognosticus' pull?"_

" _What…" Fabric rustled as Basile sat up. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to torture me with questions you_ know  _the answers to?_ "

_Aldrik's breath caught in his throat. Never before had his brother answered this question so forcefully._

" _It's taunting me." Basile's voice was quieter now, shaking with emotion. "I can feel the darkness, but it is just beyond my grasp. Even now, even as the Tribe's King, it...refuses me."_

_Aldrik gritted his teeth as he tried to block out his brother's confessions, willing that he not be affected and lose his resolve._

" _Our family sees nothing but a weak man who cannot protect his own people from human assaults… Our grandmother_ died  _because I did not have the power to stop them!"_

" _But_ I  _do, brother! I have that power! I could save us from these attacks!" His eyes flew open, revealing the blood-red eyes of a wielder. "Look, brother! The Prognosticus choose me!"_

" _What…?"_

" _Give me the throne, brother. Please. I can save our Tribe. The Prognosticus has been training me since birth for this moment. I am powerful enough to obliterate all of the humans who have wronged us!"_

" _You mean… all this time… every day I spent toiling away in darkness,_ years  _of effort I put into getting stronger and you wait until_ now  _to tell me? You watched me struggle for the entirety of my life and said_ nothing _?!"_

_Aldrik wanted to tell Basile about the many times they'd had this conversation, and how every single time, no matter how old they were, he'd faced rejection at the hands of his older brother. "It was for this very reason that I didn't, Basile! I knew you'd be upset, so I thought I could hide it. But the Tribe needs the help of the Dark Prognosticus, or we are all going to die!"_

" _No! I will protect them myself! It is my duty as King!"_

" _But you've already failed, brother. You said it yourself. Our grandmother's death was your own fault. You could not stop the humans who killed her."_

" _I will not allow any more casualties! I do not need your help!" Basile's words were wrenched out through clenched teeth._

" _Stubborn fool!" Aldrik gasped. "You are condemning us to death!"_

" _You dare call your king a fool?!"_

" _You are not my king, brother," Aldrik said, his tone firm. His red eyes glowed brighter as he took a few steps in his brother's direction._

" _I have worked harder for this throne than any wielder has! You ought to bow before me!"_

" _You must give that title to its rightful owner, Basile."_

" _You could never be king, Aldrik! You've lived your life as a servant. Even if you were to gain such power, you have no heir! The Tribe would start to dwindle within a generation!"_

_That was indeed something Aldrik had pondered. "Perhaps Lucienne or Anastaise—"_

" _How dare you?!" Basile lunged for his brother. "I'll kill you! Then the Dark Prognosticus will have no choice but to call to me!"_

_The scuffle was over before it had a chance to begin. Aldrik was already standing, putting him at an advantage, and as his older brother flew at him, he dodged to one side and caught Basile's arm. In an instant, he was frozen, the result of a contact spell from Aldrik. The younger brother placed his thumbs over the king's temples._

" _I really wish you would see things my way, Basile," Aldrik muttered. "Someday I will take the throne from you. Until then, I will allow you to go on thinking you are fit to be king."_

_A furious growl was all Basile could manage in reply._

" _Goodnight, brother. Perhaps things will be different… next time."_

* * *

Dimentio had always wondered what it might feel like to take a bath. He closed his eyes, feeling every muscle in his body relax as it was wrapped in the warm blanket of water. He wished he could relish this experience, but he knew Merletoph was waiting for him to finish so they could talk about his mother. That alone was motivation for him to get out as soon as possible, but for a moment longer he wanted to enjoy laying in the hot water.

His wrist was still sore and his head ached, but for the most part, the pain was fading. He could feel his father's soul signature tugging at the corner of his mind, and while he was relieved he'd regained his ability to sense it, it was not a comforting presence. Closer was the sunny signature of Merletoph. It felt unlike any soul signature he'd ever come into contact with; he assumed that was because Merletoph was a sage.  _Sages must have different soul signatures,_  he concluded. Still unsolved was the mystery of why he was able to sense it now when he hadn't been able to before.

Dimentio sat up, immediately shivering as the cold air greeted his skin. He exited the tub and grabbed the towel Merletoph left him, using it like a blanket to shield himself from the coolness of the bathroom.

There was a tall mirror on one wall that he'd avoided on his way in. He had his back to it now. Throwing the towel over his head like a hood, he peeked backward, and for the first time, looked into his own eyes.

_...woah._

He approached the reflective glass, entranced by what he saw. His right eye was as deep blue as the night sky, pulsating and glowing in a way that resembled the eyes of his father. The left eye, a stunning yellow that glittered with golds and ivories, was an exact copy of Merletoph's, and likely his mother's eyes. He covered the dark eye with his hand and wondered if, with his hair this long, he really did look like his mother.

His shoulder-length, brown hair was still dripping with water from the bath, so he rubbed it with the towel a bit more. It then occurred to him that he had no idea how to style it, for he'd had no need to before. It fell into his face every time he moved his head, no matter how many times he tucked it behind his ears. Frustrated, he decided to wait until it was dry, and put on the clean clothes Merletoph had provided him.

It was a little small on him, but he managed to squeeze into a pale yellow shirt. It was wider at the bottom and reached just above his knees, similar to the poncho he usually wore, so he felt comfortable, despite the tight sleeves. The gray pants were bigger and easier to fit into, but not nearly as soft.

Tucking his unruly hair behind his ear one last time, he picked up the towel and his old clothes and prepared to exit the bathroom.

When he opened the door, however, he was unable to leave. Standing right in the doorway was the little green girl from earlier, hands on her hips and a pout on her face. Before he could say anything to her, she exclaimed, "You sure took a long time! I—hey!" Her eyes widened and she barged into the room, stepping closer to him. "Why are you wearing my dress?!"

Dimentio floated up and away from her so he was above her head, nearly brushing the ceiling with his wet hair.

"I am not," he said, staring right into her furious red eyes. A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized she could see his entire face. He broke his gaze away from hers.

"Hey, you're flying, too!" The girl drew closer. Dimentio's shoulders pressed against the ceiling. "Come back down here and give me my dress back!"

"Oh, this?" Dimentio gestured to the yellow fabric he was wearing as a shirt. "It didn't even occur to me that this might be a dress. It's far too ugly."

The green-skinned girl deflated, her shoulders drooping. "Ugly…?" She squeaked, tilting her head to the side. Then, anger consumed the timidity in her voice, and she tilted her head to the other side with a sharp  _snap_. "Ugly?!"

He didn't entirely understand why his statement had caused such a reaction from her—he'd only been telling the truth—but, remembering that this was the same girl who had turned into a monstrosity at the festival last night, Dimentio decided it would be best not to irritate her further. "I'm...only saying you deserve to...to wear much better," he fumbled for something to say that would calm her down.

"Mimi?"

Both magician and miracle ceased their conversation and turned to the door of the bathroom. There stood Merletoph, arms crossed, concern flashing in his yellow eyes.

"Are you bothering our guest?"

Indignant, Mimi frowned and pointed at Dimentio. "He stole my dress and called it ugly! He deserves to be bothered!"

Merletoph took a step into the bathroom and knelt down, motioning for Mimi to come closer to him. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Dimentio watched them with curious eyes.

"My dear, I gave Dimentio your dress to wear because he has no other clean clothes. And no one deserves to be bothered, no matter how mean they are to you. Remember what we talked about?" His amber eyes prompted her to tell him.

The green-skinned girl hummed as she tried to recall the exact words. "Be kind to everyone, because kindness means friendship?"

Merletoph smiled. "Kindness  _yields_  the sweetness of friendship. And anger yields…?"

"Only what is bitter," Mimi stood up straight as she remembered.

"Exactly. So what do you think you should do now?"

"Three things?"

"Three things," the sage nodded.

Mimi appeared as though she were about to pout, but then thought better of it as she turned to Dimentio with a smile on her face.

"I think it's really cool that you can fly," she said, "and… your hair would look nice if you brushed it."

" _Mimi_ ," Merletoph chided.

"Sorry," she muttered, sagging her shoulders. "Okay, one more thing… Uhm… I guess my dress does look okay on you."

A bemused expression settled on Merletoph's face as he patted Mimi on the back. "Good. Now, Dimentio, why don't you try and say something nice to Mimi?"

Dimentio stared at him. "Something nice?"

"Yeah!" Mimi chimed in, "It's Papa's 'Three Things' rule! If you say something mean to someone you have to tell them three nice things to make up for it."

_Did I say something mean?_  Was calling her dress ugly considered a mean thing to say? That must have been what she was referring to, he decided.  _I was telling her the truth. It really is an ugly dress._  It then occurred to Dimentio that his view of what was right and wrong might be vastly different from the right and wrong Mimi and Merletoph knew.  _How do I know I'm not doing something wrong right now?_

His feet touched the ground, and he met Merletoph's expectant gaze. The sage was waiting for him to say something.

"You…" He furrowed his brow.  _Why is this so hard?_  Suddenly self-conscious, he longed for the protection of his mask. "You...you're made of magic, which is...strange, but not bad."

Merletoph gave him a half-smile. "Alright. That's a good start, Dimentio. We can work on that later." He stood.

"Wait, but that's only one thing!" Mimi interjected. "He still needs to say two more!"

Dimentio watched with glazed eyes as Merletoph guided Mimi out of the bathroom and whispered something to her privately. He was still straining to think of something nice, something that he knew for sure was nice to say to another person.  _She said something about my hair. But...what if I don't like her hair? Why would I lie about something just for the sake of it being 'nice'?_ He narrowed his eyes as he continued to ponder the subject.  _Does Mimi actually like my hair? Did she actually mean any of the things she said to me, or was she saying them only because she had to?_

"Dimentio?" He looked up into Merletoph's yellow eyes.

"Yes?"

"Come, let's get you something to eat. Then, we can talk about your mother."

* * *

Soaked from the rain and still caked with mud, Blumiere sat on top of the blankets on his bed, leaning against the magically-crafted obsidian headboard. His gaze was fixed on the wall opposite him, glazed and vacant. He was aware of his father's presence; he could feel his piercing stare as it traveled over him, judging or perhaps mocking him, but he did not care to acknowledge him.

"You needn't try to make excuses for yourself anymore."

Basile's voice shattered the silence like a rock crashing through a window, tumbling, then landing in an empty, unattended room.

"I know exactly why you were sneaking out, and why you were cloaking your soul signature." He hurled another stone. "I am  _more_  than disappointed in you, Blumiere."

The prince of darkness moved not an inch, persistent in his vigil.

Basile picked up a boulder. "The filthy human woman you loved is dead!  _I killed her!_ "

The wall holding back Blumiere's emotions crumbled. Tears sprang from his eyes and tumbled down his cheeks, leaving a clean streak through the dirt. His lips trembled as he swallowed back the sobs that quivered in his throat.

He knew Timpani was still alive. He knew she would be safe, far away from him. But with that knowledge came the understanding that he would never see her again. That she didn't  _want_  to see him again. And that, possibly, was worse than her being dead.

"You shed tears for one human but care not for the countless others that lay dead on the grass outside our door?"

"Le…"

"For the humans that  _you_  killed?"

"Leave…"

"Pathetic."

"Leave me be! Let me be  _alone_!" Furious cerulean eyes wet with tears latched onto Basile. The king's own eyes widened, as if he didn't expect such defiance from his own son. Then his expression hardened.

"Very well. Rot in here for all I care." He left without another word.

Blumiere's sorrow-filled gaze returned to the wall. He sat still until his tears dried, and his mind and body numbed.

* * *

The rain had begun to fall again, striking through Timpani's already soaked dress like tiny balls of hail. As she stumbled out of the crowded trees and onto the cobblestone road, she doubled over, trying to catch her breath, but every time she inhaled, another sob coughed its way out of her throat.

Fear forced her to keep going. She was still too close to the castle here, still in danger of being spotted by one of the mages who lived inside of it. She didn't know if Blumiere was able to see her from where he was, but she didn't want to take any chances. Stumbling down the vacant street, she was suddenly terrified at the thought of being alone. There was no one outside, which was unusual, even in the rain. She pictured the townsfolk, usually out trying to sell their wares or share stories with friends, and imagined they were huddled away in their houses, as horrified of the mages as she was.

The sound of the rain drumming on the road covered up her footsteps. She trudged onward as through a town of ghosts, her cries of pain and grief swept away by the wind, heard by no one.

She passed through the town square and turned right down a narrow street lined with houses. Four houses down was the one she was looking for.

_One…_  She counted the houses as she passed them, trying to give her mind something to do other than worry.  _Two… Three… Four…_

She burst through the door and closed it tightly behind her. Collapsing against the wall, she gulped in breaths, trying to calm herself down. She was safe now.

"Timpani?" She recognized her aunt's voice. "Oh! Oh my goodness, what happened to you?!" Warm hands supported her and helped her walk over to a couch, where she crumpled into a heap, soaked with rainwater. A second voice called to her.

"Timpani! We haven't seen you in days, where have you been?" Her uncle stepped closer to her. "Are you hurt? Were you involved in the battle?"

She turned her crystal blue eyes to her aunt, and then to her uncle. "I…" But as soon as she tried to speak, the only thing that could come out of her mouth was a cough, and then she was sobbing again. A gasp came from her aunt's mouth, and then arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"Oh, you poor child, you're soaking wet. Emmak, get her a towel, would you?" He nodded and left, returning a moment later with a gray towel. He handed it to Timpani, and she wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Tha-ank you," she sputtered, still struggling to catch her breath. Emmak put a hand on her head, brushing her matted hair behind her ears.

"Tell us what happened to you," her aunt's words were gentle, but her statement felt as heavy as a stone to Timpani. What had happened? Where was she supposed to begin?

_When did this all start? When I met Blumiere? Was it before that? How long has it been since I've started seeing Mimi around? How long has Merletoph passed me on the streets without me even knowing?_

"Rebecca, maybe we oughtn't to—not now, anyway," Emmak seemed to recognize the conflict in his niece's expression.

Suddenly, Timpani stood up. "I have to go," she said, wrapping the towel tightly around herself. "I-I have to, one of my-my friends, he's in danger."

"Where? Let me go with you," Emmak offered.

"No!" Timpani backed away, heading for the door. "No, thank you, b-but I have to go a-alone."

"Timpani!"  
"Are you sure?"

"Trust me! I-I need you to stay here, please, I-I'll be back soon, I promise."

Emmak and Rebecca exchanged a glance. "If you must…" Emmak said, worry creasing his brow. "But please, Timpani, be careful."

She opened the door to the pouring rain, taking the towel with her. "Don't follow me," she called behind her as she stepped outside, " _please_."

Ignoring the protests of her aching limbs, Timpani began to run back the way she came, heading for the forest on the other side of town. She focused all of her thoughts on Ronan, refusing to allow herself to think of anything else.

_I left him in the hands of that boy. He said he took them to Merletoph, but what if Merletoph couldn't help him? Oh, please, let him be alright!_

She sent several more prayers to the stars, and among them, her heart prayed that Blumiere would be alright, too.

* * *

"Why don't you tell me everything you remember about your mother?"

Dimentio chewed the piece of buttered bread Merletoph had given him, a contemplative look on his face.  _So far, everything I thought I knew about my mother has been wrong,_  he realized.  _I don't...even know what her soul signature feels like._ "She left," he shrugged. "Right after I was born. I...guess I don't know  _why_  anymore."

"Is that all? Your father never talked about her?"

Dimentio forced himself to grin.  _Only that it was my fault she left. She couldn't bear to be around the other humans after having borne me. That she was terrified of me._ "Aha ha. I guess not." Then he turned away from Merletoph. "That's why I came here. I was hoping you knew more about her."

"I apologize, my boy. I assumed you had been told about your mother."

"...Have you met my father?"

"Sha'i never introduced me to him, no."

"Good."

Merletoph cocked his head, leaning in toward his grandson. "Now, why is that, Dimentio?"

"My father is…" Dimentio hummed, trying to put his thoughts into words. "My father is not...nice. Not by your standards, anyway." Not once had his father said anything nice to him, not even a lie that was meant to sound nice just to make someone else think he was being nice. He only said what was necessary, which, by Dimentio's standards, was all that needed to be said.  _But was he nice to mother? Or did he treat her like he treats me?_  For the first time, he found himself worrying about his parents' relationship.

Merletoph seemed equally as worried. His brow creased as he said, "Sha'i was so in love with him. It wasn't long before she convinced me she was going to move away with him. I...I should never have allowed it, but I just wanted her to be happy."

Dimentio was again awed by how different Merletoph's way of life was. He let his daughter leave him, simply for her happiness' sake? There were no rules she had to abide by that would tie her to her home?  _Perhaps there were, and she convinced Merletoph to let her break them._

"I didn't see her again for about a year, but I could always feel that her signature was close by. That was enough to give me comfort. Then, she showed up again one day, and told me she and Aldrik were leaving this world altogether."

"But he never left," Dimentio muttered.

"I wonder why," Merletoph ran a hand through his stringy white hair, yellow eyes fixated on something in the distance. "He didn't tell you?"

"He never mentioned having any plans to leave with her. He told me she left on her own. Because she was…"

"Your mother was not afraid of you," Merletoph's gentle voice floated over Dimentio's. "I'm nearly certain of it. Look at everything she did to protect you."

Dimentio put his hands behind his back, instinctively rubbing the damaged skin on his wrist.

"When Sha'i came to me that night, right before she left, she told me it wasn't safe for her to stay here anymore. I had always assumed it was because she sought a place where she and Aldrik could be safe together, but if he never intended to go with her, it must have been your safety she was worried about."

"But she didn't take me, either," Dimentio exhaled and put a hand to his bare cheek, momentarily marveling at how smooth his skin was.

"That does worry me," Merletoph admitted. "The closer we get to the truth, the more convinced I am that your mother did not intend to leave alone. The problem is, I have no clue what would have prompted her to do so."

Once again, Dimentio felt uneasy as he pictured his parents' relationship. Had his father been the one to force his mother to leave by herself? "You mentioned you could still feel her signature," he said. "Can't you teleport to her? Are members of the Tribe of Ancients able to use soul tracking?" Soul tracking was a skill he'd learned almost as soon as he'd mastered teleportation. It allowed him to move to the exact location of his father's signature even if he couldn't picture the room he was in.  _If only I knew mother's signature. I would go find her right now._

"Soul tracking between worlds or dimensions is dangerous and usually inaccurate unless you are extremely skilled with magic." Merletoph frowned. "And besides, even if I were to do it, I can no longer pinpoint Sha'i's signature. I can feel her moving, as if she is still traveling between dimensions, but nothing more."

"And that's why you think she found The Gateway?"

"I'm certain of it. There's no other way she could have left this dimension on her own."

Dimentio narrowed his eyes. He really didn't want to bring up this point if he didn't have to, but it was the only valuable information he had left to offer. "What if… well…" he cleared his throat and tried again, embarrassed by his lack of eloquence. "Er...what do you know about the Dark Prognosticus?"

Merletoph's expression hardened, and his golden eyes dimmed to amber as he tilted his head forward. "I know more about that despicable book than I ever wanted to."

Recalling Merletoph's story that he'd eavesdropped on, Dimentio realized he must be referring to the time he spent with his brother, Merlumio, the first true wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. "Do you know if the Dark Prognosticus might be able to give someone the power to send another person away?" He spoke with a tentative slowness, knowing Merletoph would assume the worst. Unfortunately, in this case, the worst was also the truth.

Dimentio was met with a fearful gaze. "Why...do you ask?" Merletoph's voice shook.

"I...I've never known for sure, but…" the magician trailed off, wondering again if he should be truthful, or if telling the truth would be a bad thing right now. Would lying or not telling Merletoph his suspicions be the 'nice' thing to do in this situation? How was he ever supposed to tell?  _I can't keep guessing. I will leave it up to Merletoph to tell me if I've done something wrong._ With his decision made, Dimentio continued, "I have reason to believe that my father is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus." He smiled and then, thinking that might be inappropriate, leveled his expression and turned his head away from his grandfather.

Merletoph was silent for what seemed to be several minutes. Dimentio swallowed. Had he done something wrong? But at last, the old sage spoke. "The Dark Prognosticus has the power to separate an entire race of people and scatter them across the dimensions. I don't doubt that it could send one woman to wander through the Gateway for eternity…"

Dimentio straightened, returning his gaze to Merletoph. "Do you really think that's what happened? Did father… Did he send her away?"

"It is… likely, considering what we both know as fact."

"...why?" He knew his grandfather didn't have an answer, but at the moment that was the only word that surfaced in Dimentio's mind.

The wooden chair Merletoph was sitting in creaked as he stood. "I am just as troubled as you are, my grandson. But," his aged voice hardened with determination, "I do know one thing: we must find your mother. And to do that, we must first find this world's Dimensional Gateway."

"Dimensional Gateway?"

Both Merletoph and Dimentio were startled by the new voice that entered the conversation. In the doorway to the living room, the wounded redhead was wrapped up in a blanket, leaning against the wall. A determined smile brightened her face.

"I believe I know what yeh're talkin' about."

"You do?" Dimentio leaned forward, not entirely sure the woman knew what she was talking about.

"Of course! Ronan and 'is Nanna and I 'ad to get 'ere somehow, seein' as we couldn't use your fancy teleportation to escape the war on our 'omeworld. We came in through a world full o' doors, and our lucky pick landed us 'ere."

Merletoph stood and approached the woman, a warm smile thanking her before he said a word. "My dear. First, tell me your name."

"Kathleen."

"Kathleen," Merletoph said as he put a hand on her elbow to steady her. "Can you show us where the Dimensional Gateway is?"

She nodded. "'Course I can. But I'm warnin' yeh now: it's a long trek."

"Thank you, Kathleen." Merletoph began to guide her back toward the bedroom. "I am so glad you are healing, but you need to rest, especially if you are to guide us to the gateway."

Dimentio watched them go, surprised at how lucky they were that someone knew the way to the Dimensional Gateway. It was nice of Kathleen, he mused, to so willingly help someone she didn't even know. Then again, Merletoph had helped her first, which was nice of him.

_...perhaps Kathleen is only being nice because Merletoph was nice._

"We have our plan then, Dimentio!" Merletoph's jovial voice reached him, clearing away his musings.

"We do?"

"Yes! We will leave for the gateway as soon as Kathleen is feeling completely rested!"

"We're leaving?" Dimentio knew this was the conclusion Merletoph was coming to; he'd known it all along. He knew the only way to find his mother was to chase after her himself, but…  _Leaving… leaving father without telling him… There's no telling what he might do if I leave._

Sturdy hands rested on his shoulders, squeezing gently and offering him warmth and comfort. "You must go back to your father," Merletoph said, his voice firm. "He mustn't know what we're planning. Come back here in three days, early in the morning, so we have as much time as possible before your signature uncloaks. If we can escape before then, your father will never be able to distinguish your soul signature from the millions of others that exist in the Gateway. Do you understand?"

Dimentio nodded, trying very hard to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. "I understand. I'll see you in three days."


End file.
